Three
by Taintless
Summary: A time turner story with a difference. Hermione has to team up with Malfoy, in order to convince Tom Riddle that she really is a pureblood. DracoHermioneTom kind of triangle...THE END! Epilogue added due to massive requests!
1. The Plan

"Father-"

"I don't want to hear it, Draco. I have no interest in this nonsense. You will do as you're told, and that's that. I know what is best for you. You know I do."

His father's head flickered in the flame angrily but Draco, standing uptight, felt strong enough to keep on arguing, something he hadn't done in quite some time.

"Father, I am not a child. I-I don't want to follow in your ways. I don't want to follow in his ways."

"You're barely seventeen. You don't know what you want. " With that concise statement, Lucius Malfoy's head disappeared from the fire; clearly dismissing his son and their discussion.

Draco fell into a chair, his hands on the bridge of his noise, staring into the fire, frustration and annoyance building up inside him. He prepared himself for a long, hard think on how he, Draco Malfoy, a seventeen year old boy who had never really cared for much before in his life and had never been in much immediate danger, was going to get himself, unaided, out of this mess.

* * *

Everybody that knew Hermione Granger would be surprised to see her in the library not researching a difficult Transfiguration problem or writing a long Potion's essay, but researching potions that could be used to tame and style hair. Hermione, seemingly indifferent to her frizzy mane, was just not that type of person.

Ginny Weasley, sitting beside her drinking a can of cheap Strawberry juice, was the type, alright, but she was the one doing her homework, albeit not successfully.

People might be a little less surprised, however, if they learned that Hermione was researching said Hair Potions, not because of any secret motive of desired beauty, but because it was part of her grand plan to save the Wizarding World.

"I don't know, Hermione, it sounds all very vague and fishy to me," Ginny said now.

Hermione sighed but did not reply. Recently, she'd really been regretting telling Ginny about her plan. Especially because of the fact that she'd been little help. She was useless at researching and new nothing about the old pureblood ways. She seemed very hesitant about the plan too, with good reason to, given her past experience with sixteen year old Tom. Even this information had been useless to Hermione; Ginny seemed to have blocked most of the memories out. But, despite her frivolous act, Hermione knew Ginny was worried about her. This was bad, Hermione didn't want more worry; she contained enough worry herself, after all.

"Aren't you even going to talk to me?"

There was a very long and pronounced silence and then a sigh.

"He tried to attack my parents, Gin," Hermione responded in a low, heavy voice.

"What!" Ginny froze in mid sip. "What are you talking- what?"

"Voldemort-"

"Don't say his name!"

"_Voldemort _tried to kill my parents." Hermione hated the way it sounded so dramatic, even in her dull tone. She didn't want to upset Ginny – that was why she hadn't told her or any of her friends before.

"Are they okay?" Ginny swung around fully to face her and Hermione could see her anxious expression.

"They're fine. Dumbledore, supposedly, had filled them all in on the war and had given them a port key so that they could come to Hogwarts in the drop of a hat. They're a bit shaken but that's all."

"Are _you_ okay?"

"Yes," Hermione told her forcefully. "I'm just glad Dumbledore's on top of things so much. I'm just glad nothing worse happened. If they'd got hurt…" She stopped herself, not wishing to upset Ginny anymore than, evidently, she already had.

"So that's why…?"

"That's why I need to do this. Ginny, Harry can't do anymore. He has to be able to, I'm not sure how to say this, to get over Sirius's death. Imagine how he would have reacted, if something had happened to my parents. He's already tearing himself up inside."

"But why do you have to do this, eh? Why can't we all..?"

"Can you imagine yourself, back with Tom? Don't be silly! Ginny, you left that all behind you in first year, I don't want you to have to face that all again."

"I could do it!"

"I don't want you too!"

"What about Ron?"

"Harry needs Ron!"

"Harry needs you too, Hermione."

"I know but he'll be okay. He kind of has to get through this himself anyway. And, well, you'll be there for him, won't you?"

"I always will be, Hermione. Don't you get that yet?"

"Still not over him, then? Despite all your ranting?"

Ginny smiled wryly. "Not quite."

There was silence. Hermione poured herself over the book again and Ginny let her, in deep thought.

"But why change the hair?" Ginny had never been able to keep quiet for long.

"I told you. I want to reach Voldemort before he started killing completely. I want to try… reason with him. I understand that it's a long shot but I have to try, right? But he won't talk to me unless I'm a pure-blood. But things were different then. There's not such an obvious distinction between Muggleborns and Purebloods now but there was then. They were all…. Well, they were all like the Malfoys, even the ones that didn't care about blood. To convince him that I'm a pureblood, I'm going to have to learn how to act and I'm going to have to look the part. Just look a little tidier is all."

"And how're you planning to do this?"

Hermione held up her old Time Turner.

"You still have that?" Ginny was astonished such a dangerous item would be allowed in Hermione's possession, if not absolutely necessary.

"I've been using it again. Snape's been teaching me Occumelcy, so that, when Harry's a bit better, I'll be able to teach him. It's very time consuming."

"But that'll hardly take you all the way back!"

"I've… tinkered with it a bit." Hermione went a little red with shame. "I know I shouldn't have but…"

"How long have you been thinking this plan up?"

"Since Cedric died, to be honest. But I've only seriously thought about it after Sirius, well, you know."

"Yeah."

There was another uncomfortable pause before Ginny spoke again.

"And, well, do you know how to act all Pure-Bloody then?"

"No, not really. There's not much books on the subject; I suppose people find it offensive now. Nobody wants to know about Voldemort, even when he was young, these days. All they have to do is look in the newspaper. Nobody wants to think about blood, pure or otherwise."

It was true. A lot of the darker material had been cleared from the library and there was now no way of getting into the restricted section, pass or otherwise. It had limited Hermione dreadfully.

"I guess I'll just have to do my best." Hermione tried to smile but it was forced. It was one part of her plan she was very worried about. She couldn't mess up. She had to befriend Tom, make him trust her, before she could reveal just how horrible things had turned out. He had to talk to her because, if he didn't, she had wasted a lot of her time.

"Wait! Hermione, you haven't mentioned anything about, well, coming back. How are you planning to do that?"

Hermione hesitated with her answer.

"Well?" Ginny was being bloody demanding. This was the one question Hermione had been dreading.

"I don't know." Hermione hated the fact that she had to tell her friend the truth.

"You don't know?"

"I don't know."

"Then that's settled. You're not going, Hermione! There's no way…"

"I _am_ going, Ginerva." Hermione's tone was suddenly dark. "It's too late. There's no way you're going to be able to stop me now! Hadn't you ever thought about why this hasn't been done before by somebody else?"

"So, you're planning on going into the past, sixty years back in fact, back to a young Voldemort who, I know especially, is dangerous enough to murder you just because your parents are Muggles, and you have no idea how to get back?"

Hermione smiled thinly. "That's the plan."

Silence.

"Are you crazy!" Ginny couldn't breathe properly.

"It definitely seems so, doesn't it, Weasley?" Malfoy appeared from behind a book case.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, _Hermione scolded herself. She'd been too tired, too used to not being caught, to have taken the proper procedures tonight.

The mood changed suddenly. Hermione stood up and stepped in front of Ginny, as if to guard her. She was tense all over. Her eyes were completely focused on Malfoy.

But there seemed to be something wrong with him too. His eyes had bags under them. He was tired. He also seemed not as calm as he normally did.

"It's after hours, Malfoy. You shouldn't be here." Hermione raised her wand.

"Either should you, Granger. You also shouldn't be making plots about going back in time."

"You shouldn't be listening into conversations that don't concern you." She tried to hide the fact that her heart was racing. Malfoy was, most definitely, going to make things much more complicated.

"I could tell Dumbledore."

"I could cast Oblivate on you," she replied in the very same tone.

"I could tell Potter and Weasley."

"I could cast Avada Kedrava on you."

He smirked.

"I could help you."

"I could –WHAT?"

Draco only glorified in catching her off guard for a moment before he began to explain.

* * *

_This is the start of a new story! I'll update quite soon, I promise. I'm kind of excited! I'll fill you in on my plan for the story in the next part, okay?_

_Please, please, please review and tell me what you think!_


	2. The Truth

But Draco's explanation left a lot to the imagination.

"I'm bored, I guess."

Ginny sighed behind Hermione but Hermione was more articulate in response. "Look, you sleek haired baboon-"

"No name calling, Mudblood, it's not pure-blood behaviour, after all. You're going to have to keep that temper of yours in check, if you want my help."

"What even makes you think I'd need your help, Malfoy?"

He sighed. "Trust me, you do. I'm tired, Granger. Let us talk tomorrow. Eh, without the Little Weasley, preferably."

"Hey!" Ginny protested but, at the same time, Hermione was nodding. She almost agreed with Malfoy. Actually, this was just the excuse she'd wanted to get Ginny off her back for a little while. Ginny was smart but not really mature enough to deal with the stress. The less she knew, the less she could tell Harry or Ron.

"It's Saturday tomorrow. The Room of Requirement?"

"Why does everybody meet there? It's so unoriginal," Draco said. "Can't you think of somewhere more creative?"

She barely looked at him through his rant and said, "Room of Requirement, then. At three? That'll give you enough time to do your hair, if you get up early. Right so, er…. Goodnight." Hermione was trying to be reasonable about this.

"Don't dream too much about me." He really was making it difficult for her.

They all left the library. Hermione didn't look back as they parted ways. Draco did, just once.

Ginny was silent for the rest of the way, which was unusual for her. When they reached The Fat Lady, she turned and looked at Hermione, with an odd hard look on her face.

"I don't like any of this, Hermione, and I'm not going to let you go. If you don't have a way back, you can't go. What do you think we'd do without you? How do you think Harry would cope then? What do you think you're doing letting Malfoy get involved? He hates you, Hermione, and you're supposed to hate him.

"The whole plan seems like a waste of time. Why not deal with Voldemort in the present? Why go back fifty years? What makes you think he's even going to notice you, eh? What makes you think he's going to listen to you? You're not going to be able to seduce him, you're not going to be able to make friends with him. I don't see why you've changed all of a sudden. Where's my normal, logical, _sane_ friend gone?"

Ginny had tears in her eyes. Hermione wasn't really sure what to do, which question Ginny actually wanted her to answer. She looked to the ground, as if the answers would somehow lie there. When she'd looked back up, Ginny had fled. Hermione knew she was upset. But Ginny didn't know the whole story. Ginny didn't know the whole story.

* * *

Twelve-year-old Hermione Granger was in a very good mood as she left the library! She'd solved it, The Chamber of Secrets, she'd done it again! If she did say it herself, she was really the smartest witch ever! It had taken hours of research and second guessing but she'd done it-

She looked up, and all her thoughts stopped.

There was a boy in front of her, but… he looked almost like a ghost. She could see his features but faintly. She had to squint. He wasn't a ghost, but what was he?

She sensed danger but she walked forward, closer to him. She didn't know why.

He was standing in front of a little black book that was spread on the ground, examining his hands as if he'd never seen them before.

She could see through him a little.

But that wasn't what she was noticing. She was noticing that her heart had started beating wildly, with something more like excitement than fear. She couldn't take her eyes off of him.

He looked up, as if drawn to her stare.

_Click…_

"Hermione Granger…" he said in a voice as soft as dead leaves falling.

She stepped closer to him slowly, nodding.

He looked like he couldn't take his eyes off of her face. He seemed to be searching for something…

He shook his head suddenly, and his eyes lifted from her. Immediately, she was broken out of the trance. Immediately, she realised that he was not a normal boy. She knew she was in big trouble.

"Who _are_ you?" she whispered. She couldn't get herself to run away.

He looked to the wall and his eyes narrowed in thought. "It's coming," he said softly to himself. Then he turned to her and she found herself be swallowed by those eyes again.

They were black but she could see a rainbow in them. Or at least she thought she did…

"Take this." He gave her something. She accepted it numbly, her eyes on his.

Blinking, she slowly looked down to see a small, circular mirror.

"What's this fo-?"

He had disappeared.

Hermione stood there for a few moments, trying to slow her breathing. She looked in the mirror and saw herself, young and extremely red and flushed.

"Er…. Hermione Granger, right?" Penelope Clearwater ran up to her, anxiety written on her face. "I- I think there's something down there! We should get out of here!" She pointed down the corridor.

Hermione thought of the basilisk and then looked down at the mirror.

And she understood what the mirror was for.

Even at twelve years old, she was extremely bright.

* * *

But not bright enough, Hermione thought, back in the present. She hadn't coped on to the fact that it was Tom Riddle, it could only have been Tom Riddle, that had given her the mirror. But, why? Why had he done that?

And why had he made her feel so strange?

She hadn't figured it out for a long time, the strange boy's true identity, until, during that summer, after reading a letter Harry had sent her, giving her the specific details on what had happened. She had wondered, but not enough to have worried her friends before. After she'd been un-petrified and everyone was happy, she hadn't seen the point.

Now it seemed a little too late. She didn't want to tell them until she was sure, anyway. Until she had, had a little time to figure it out herself.

Then Sirius had broken free and they had all thought Harry was going to be attacked and, well, there was just never time…

But there had been something between her and Tom. Something that made

her think that maybe she could change something. Maybe he wouldn't ignore her completely. He hadn't killed her anyway.

He'd been after her, Harry Potter's friend to attack. He'd known her name. So… why did he give her the mirror? Why didn't he want her to die?

Had he felt the _click_ too?

* * *

_Okay, not the best chapter, I guess. But it will be good, I promise! I'm sorry this is short but, hey, quick update, right?_

_Just getting all the background done first. There'll be a bit more on Draco before jumping back into Tom again._

_Anyway, yeah – it's going to be a bit if a triangle. I'm not sure to what degree just yet but there'll be definite stuff. I'm just focusing on getting all the pieces together in my head before I start into all the juicy stuff!_

_Oh, and this story will slow down! People will not fall madly in love with each other on first sight and people will not suddenly change! Don't fret! I will try my best to ensure that doesn't happen._

_May I remind you, this is when you're reviews are really important! When I am making the mould! Any recommendations and/or ideas you have would been greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think!_

_Thanks to everyone reading._

_Thanks to the 8 people who reviewed the last time:_

_Princess Brady, Professional Toilet Flusher, ilovstationary, Jules13, Ptrst, poke-the-sleeping-dragon, SycoCallie, and Spikes-Dreamer._


	3. The Uncertainty

Ginny sat on her own and thought for a long time. She couldn't let Hermione go, she couldn't.

Could she?

Hermione would be getting herself into such danger. Too much danger.

But Hermione had been in danger before. She'd dealt well with danger.

If Hermione could make it work…

Ginny had met Tom. She'd seen him for what he really was. Yes, he had tried to kill her, and Hermione. But he hadn't been all dark. He'd still been human, at the very least.

If Hermione could make it work, maybe the sacrifice would be worth it. They'd get Hermione back, wouldn't they? They'd be able to bring her back, of course they would.

But changing things in the past had to be risky, didn't it? Would it change the future, so that nobody would remember Hermione? Would it truly make Voldemort go forever and Harry lead a normal life? Would Sirius still be alive? What about her granddad? What about Harry's parents?

If Hermione thought she could do it, maybe Ginny would be foolish to step in her way. She'd be only stopping Hermione from doing what Hermione thought best. And Hermione was always right, wasn't she? She was always correct about stuff like this, and Ginny never was.

Hermione was smarter than Ginny too, better. Hermione wouldn't fall under Tom's charm, would she? She wouldn't let anybody get hurt.

There was a click by the door and Ginny looked up, hoping to see Hermione.

It was Harry.

There was something wrong with him. His eyes were duller than usual and he was pale, so pale.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

He seemed to only see her now. "Yeah," he grunted. "It's just been… a long day."

"Where have you been all night?"

"I was walking. I… I needed to think about stuff." For a brief second, Harry's blank mask changed into a troubled, exhausted face before he covered it over again.

He left then, grunting goodbye, and she was left alone to think yet again.

Harry had settled it then. If Hermione wanted to go, she could go. But Ginny wouldn't go with her – Ginny would step into Hermione's shoes here. She'd do as Hermione did, making sure the boys were okay, eating right, doing their homework, and not killing each other and/or somebody else.

Ginny nodded to herself once, and then went to bed.

* * *

Draco wasn't quite sure why he was meeting up with her, _Granger_, in the Room Of Requirement.

"Hello, Granger." She was in there, sitting on the table, swinging her legs, with a scowl on her face.

"You're late," she accused, standing up.

Purposely done, of course. "I know."

There was an awkward silence then. She didn't quite know what to say to him, when not in the form of an insult.

"Look Malfoy," she began after a bit in her know-it-all tone, "if you could just, say nothing about the plan to anybody for a couple of days, I would really, really, really appreciate it-"

"And why, pray tell, would I do a Mudblood like yourself any favours?"

She looked at him properly, for the first time then, and smirked. Her tone was suddenly lighter and so, so sure of herself. "Tell me, Malfoy, are you a supporter of the Dark Lord?"

"That-That is none of your nosey little business."

"Hm. Well, if you were, surely you would be announcing your support and loyalty to him right about now."

"As if I would to a snotty little Gryffindor who'd run off and tell Dumbledore and Potty immediately!"

"C'mon, Malfoy, don't play dumb with me. You know I couldn't – then they'd know I willingly met up with you."

He was silent, only because he knew she was right.

"Shall I tell you what I really think? I think you don't support the Dark Lord at all. Your father is pushing you into doing it, isn't he? You're a spiteful, spoilt, annoying little git, but you're not a Death Eater, are you? You aren't a murderer, aren't you not?"

The anger has been bubbling in his stomach for some time now. Stupid Granger, with her know-it-all tone, knowing everything, stuff she shouldn't know, stuff that could get him seriously in danger if certain people were listening. He had lost his temper, his hand curled into a fist and-

BANG!

It really was either the desk or her face.

His fist smarted from the impact with the wood. He enjoyed the fact that she was shocked. It shut her up for a second and gave him a second to think.

"Really, Malfoy-" she spluttered, but that was all she could articulate.

Why was he here, listening to Granger and her stupid, boring theories? Why was he here, hitting desks in fury, when he could be back at his Common Room, with his actual mates? It was a Saturday, after all, and they were precious in a Boarding school. He didn't have to listen to this nonsense about going back fifty years into the past. It had nothing to do with him, at all.

Except the fact that she was right, wasn't she? He didn't support Voldemort. He didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps. In one week, he was supposed to be getting the Dark Mark on his arm and, when he did, he'd never be able to run from it. He'd be trapped.

That was why he was here.

"Okay," he took a deep breathe and continued, "you know what, Granger? You're right. You're right, okay? I don't want to follow Voldemort, at least not just yet. That's why I am going to help you. Because you're screwed without me and because I need to do something to try get away from him."

"How am I screwed without you?" she argued.

"Granger, you have to act as a Pureblood, right? What were you going to say was your last name?"

"Er… Granger?"

"Right, and where are your Pureblood roots originated from? What's your history? What are your family's beliefs on the pressures to mix bloods and how have you taken precautions not to do so?"

Her mouth was a little open, her expression blank.

"Stop looking at me like a goldfish, Granger. This is the kind of stuff he's going to ask. You can't just be _a_ _Granger_! You have to be of a family that's well known, respected. Whose history he already knows, so you won't have to make up any stories. If you really are going to do this, Granger, you have to remember that you're dealing with Voldemort here!"

She nodded reluctantly and then asked, in a somewhat sulky voice, "Are you coming with me then?"

"Into the past? Back fifty years?"

"Yes, Malfoy," she said impatiently, "I'm not talking about tea, am I?"

He was silent.

"It would be an extremely convenient way to disappear for a while," she prompted. "Your father would never be able to find you."

He hated that she knew so much about him. He hated that she was always right.

And what did he really have here, anyway?

If he could stop Voldemort, he'd have done something so brilliant, so important –

He'd have done something Potter hadn't been fully able to do.

"Yeah, I think I will. Me and you, Granger. In the past."

He couldn't help smirk at the dawning uncertainty on her face as he swept by her, leaving the Room of Requirement, leaving her to worry for a very, very, very long time. Or so he imagined, smirking to himself.

* * *

Hermione returned to the Common Room late, having been in the Room Of Requirement, worrying for a very, very, very long time, after Malfoy had left.

* * *

"Draco...!" Pansy always seemed so surprised when Draco pushed her off him. He wondered why, because he always did. He think he'd only let her have her way with him once or twice, in his extremely weakened moments.

She wasn't even ugly. Yes, her pug nose was unfortunate, but Pansy's hair was long and blonde and straight unlike –

Unlike Granger's dark, bushy mess.

He shook his head. He'd done enough thinking about that Mudblood for one night.

"Okay, fine, Pansy. Fine. But only for tonight."

It was only on Sunday night that Draco began to worry she had bottled out. She hadn't made any communication and he didn't have that much time, after all. He had to be out of here in a week or he was wasting his time.

He scowled and realised what he had to do.

_Granger,_

_Are you going to make any effort to do something any time soon? You know I have limited time. I hope you're not cowering out – you are, after all, supposed to be a Gryffindor. This is your plan, and I expect you to finish what you've started now._

_Or else I'm going to tell Dumbledore what you had planned._

_Remember, I have to teach you to behave properly and, judging by your previous behaviour, that is going to take substantial time._

_D.M_

He scowled once more, cursed her name, then called his owl to deliver the letter to her. She better not take long with her reply, he thought angrily, I do have better things to be doing.

Merely two minutes later, his owl screeched by his window, with a piece of white parchment tied to his foot.

_Malfoy,_

_Stop bothering me. I'm trying to think._

_Hermione Granger_

Well! That was extremely ignorant. Draco was in half a mind to send her back a Howler, until another owl came into the window, almost immediatelty, as if by second thought.

_Malfoy,_

_Okay, fine. Room of Requirement, after Potions._

_See you then._

_Don't hurt my owl!_

_Hermione Granger_

Draco found himself laughing.

She needn't sound so reluctant. As if she had anything better do. She was hardly a _social butterfly_, was she? And what was this nonsense about hurting her owl! What did she think he would do, chop it up and send it back piece by piece with a ransom note demanding more owls to chop?

Granger really was one peculiar girl, he thought to himself.

He stroked the owl once, he wasn't sure why, and sent it back with his reply.

_Granger,_

_Don't we have Charms then?_

_D.M_

She was longer replying this time and Draco got bored waiting. He was just about to go asleep when her owl came back.

_Malfoy,_

_We can miss it. This is important, after all. Just like you said._

_Hermione Granger_

Jesus, Granger must be taking this seriously, he thought, if she wants to miss class for it.

Somewhat happy that he was in control right now, he smirked and went to sleep.

He had a dream about her that night, but, in the morning, he didn't remember.


	4. The Dreams

She huffed and puffed and kicked presses and beat her pillow before meeting with Malfoy. Just to be prepared. She really didn't want to Azkaban before the age of eighteen. But still, here she was. Missing one of her favourite classes, just to meet with that smug, arrogant, slimy – Oh dear, perhaps she should have beaten the pillow a bit more.

She entered and saw that he was late. Unsurprised, she took her book out and began to read her book – one that was surprising not related to her current project to save the world. About ten minutes, he strolled in.

She looked up, begging herself to keep calm, and saw that smirk.

"It doesn't impress anyone when you're late, you know," she said, tight lipped. "It just makes you look like an uneducated child lacking the skill to read a clock."

"And it doesn't impress anyone when you read, you know," he said. "It just makes you look like your life is so boring that you have nothing better to do but read a book written back in the eighteenth centaury."

"Don't you dare insult me just because Daddy never thought you how to read the big people's books!"

"Oh, I know how to read, Granger. But it's not a woman's place to read."

"So I shall act more like Pansy Parkinson from now on, shall I?"

"Precisely."

She stared at him.

"That is what these – lessons, shall we call them? – are about, Granger. Helping you act like a posh, pure blooded Pansy-like girl." He eyed her then and sighed. "It is to be hard work."

Everything came up in her throat – her protests, her insults, her temper – but she surprised both him and herself by sighing. "Yeah, I know."

"You know what?"

"It is going to be hard work. I need this to happen quickly. I need this to happen as soon as possible."

He nodded, and she was surprised by the sudden expression of seriousness on his face. "Now," he began and in a flash she saw a brief comparison with Snape and him but, with a shake of her head, the scary image was gone and she could concentrate, "first, we must think of a family for you – a _proper_ one."

She sank down into the chair and, for the next hour or so, listened to his surprising range of knowledge, subtle pokes at her lifestyle, family, appearance, blood and acquaintances, and his own self-appraisals and self – flattery.

By the end they decided Zabini to be her second name and Hermione to stay as her first. He would remain Draco Malfoy. Because pure-bloods were so secretive, Draco felt that it would be safe enough to say they'd been home-schooled before now, except for last year when Draco had gone to Durmstang for a term but had found it dreadfully boring. Most home-schooled kids had to do at least one year in a Wizarding School but they'd come a year early so that they would be properly prepared for seventh year.

With Hermione's new persona created, they both left, feeling oddly satisfied with themselves.

* * *

_The first thing she was aware of was that her head felt lighter somehow. Her hair was different. Lighter. She looked into the mirrors – plural, because they were all around her. Her hair was sleek, straight and shorter than it had ever been before – just by her shoulders._

_She was sitting on a wooden chair and wearing her school uniform but it looked different somehow. She couldn't pin point it._

_Tom stood in front of her, his face impassive. Slowly he leaned in, put both hands on the sides of her chair, his eyes deep on hers, and inhaled deeply through his nose as if to draw her in._

_He wore his uniform too – she dragged her eyes away from his to see the Slytherin crest imprinted on the left side of his chest. That was what was weird about her uniform – it had the Slytherin crest also! Why? Why would she not be wearing her red and gold proudly? She was a Gryffindor! Wasn't she? Looking into Tom's dark eyes, she wasn't so sure._

_His face drew towards her and…_

Click_…_

_"It's coming," he said and it was the exact same way and tone he'd said it when she was twelve years old. He pushed the mirror into her hand but, before she could see her own frightened face, it had turned into a silver snake and had bit her hand._

_Terrified, she pushed herself off the chair and he was gone. She shook her hand but the snake wouldn't come off, it was swallowing her whole hand. Panicked, she slammed it up against the mirror where it exploded with a splatter, leaving a red smear and a dead snake in its way._

_She ran, horrified as she heard a high pitched laugh echo through the night, laughing at her._

_She ran straight into Tom… no, it was Harry. "What… what have you done, Hermione? How could you?" He was crying and blocking her sight from something. Suddenly everything was in slow motion as she pushed past him and saw something, something so far away, lying on the floor, not moving, with long red hair._

_"What have you DONE?" Harry roared at her and his face began twisting, twisting into something horrid, with red eyes, and a high pitched laugh…_

_She turned and fell into Malfoy._

_"What's wrong?" his eyes were urgent. "Was the snake poisonous? Did he bite you? Has he tainted your blood? What's happened to your blood?"_

_"Malfoy…" She needed help, needed support, and suddenly he looked beautiful to her, so full of light, with his silver hair, funny that it was the same colour as the snake, ironic even._

_Just as she lined up to kiss him, a thin snake fork-like tongue hissed at her through his grinning mouth and touched her cheeks, tainting her forever, making her filthy, making her blood full of mud and her hair go frizzy and let everyone see her for who she really was…. What she really was… disgusting…._

She woke with a start. Ginny was shaking her.

"_What_?"

"Will you stop moving around when you sleep? For Merlin's safe, Hermione, your bed creaks every time you do! I can hear it in my room! Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that you've missed breakfast and you have Potions in ten minutes so you'd want to get a move on! I've been shaking you for the last ten minutes – I thought there was something wrong with you!"

It had been another weird dream. Her room mates – and Ginny – had been giving out about her tossing and turning for the last month or so.

She realised that she had to meet up with Malfoy again today. Maybe that was why Hermione cast a muting charm on Ginny later on, cursed Neville's frog into a slipper and made Ron's essay that he wanted her to read over translate into Chinese, the only language Hermione knew Snape probably couldn't speak. She was most definitely in a bad mood.

So in she plodded to the Room of Requirement, her book already out in preparation to wait for him to give her his enlightening presence.

So, imagine her shock, when he was already there, reading a book of his own – The Pureblood Diaries – and making notes in a small black notebook.

"Malfoy… you're not late!"

He looked up at her with a expression of annoyance and chided, "Granger, I had thought earlier on that you had been trying to attempt my wit and that you indeed do know that I actually am capable of reading the time and, therefore, can come to the conclusion of my being here on time or not all my myself."

"Well, I dunno, don't you think that's a bit odd? Why are you not late?"

"Because we have work to do, Granger." He showed her the page he'd been working on and smirked. It was titled "Fashions of the Purebloods: Prove your Purity."

"You must be gay," she said and immediately was shocked. That wasn't a normal thing for Hermione Granger to say.

He laughed at her stricken face. "It's alright, Granger, you can say the word "gay" around me, unlike those Gryffindors you normally associate yourself with."

"Thank you _so_ much," she replied, her voice oozing in sarcasm.

"Don't thank me yet," he said and, still smirking, he raised the tube he was holding. "Let me introduce you to your savoir: Merlin's Mending For Mad Hair. This, Granger, might even let you have a boyfriend one day."

And the, despite herself, Hermione laughed.

It was just too odd to be receiving fashion and hair tips from her mortal enemy.

He watched her quietly until she stopped her giggling, with an expression of apprehension. He had been hoping she would at least keep her sanity until they'd travelled sixty years – He had planned for it to be his entertainment source.

But he was shocked by the fact that he was ready for this plan. The more he prepared, the more he felt he didn't have any other choice. The more he let himself believe, the more he prepared for his travelling experience.

She took the book from him and eyed the book, now warily.

"Right… shall we get sorted so?"

Draco snatched the book from her, and raised his wand. He wanted to be in control.

He was surprised when she didn't protest. He had his wand raised, pointed towards her, ready to cast a spell on her – and she was letting him.

She was like nobody he'd ever before met. She was an odd one alright.

He cast a spell, thinking of a certain hair style in his head, to try out. Her hair changed. Huge blonde curls adorned her, her eyebrows looked black in comparison, and she looked extremely strange.

The mirror in front of her let her see his creation. "I look like a poodle, Malfoy!"

"You don't think so always?"

"Not to this extent! I swear, if you don't change it this instance…!"

He looked down at the styles again – he needed a style that was posh, proud and pure-blooded to the core. He looked back at her and thought really, really hard.

Her hair changed, and all he could do was stare.

"Granger…" Now he knew Granger was not a beautiful girl, she was no where near Pansy or that Chang girl. Yet the change in her was significant to say the least. It was probably the first time he'd actually seen her as a girl – an attractive girl.

She, on the other hand, was horrified. She stood up and awkwardly shuffled to the mirror. "Malfoy… it's the same hair that was in my… my dream."

She removed the spell with her own wand, to resort her hair back to as if was before, and looked back at him, eyes wide, and wondered whether it was just a coincidence.

Doubt began to fill up on her suddenly. She was suddenly uncertain. "Malfoy… maybe we shouldn't do this. Why am I doing this? This is so useless… what good would it do? We'd just go and trap ourselves in the past and Harry, Harry would be really worried…"

"Granger," he said, standing up, stepping closer to her. "Calm down." His tone was suddenly different, different than she had ever heard it before. Genuine. "Look, I don't think you should back out now. I dunno – I just, when I heard you say this plan, I just had this feeling. It's like… we're supposed to do this. You're supposed to do this. I know that sounds stupid but…" he stopped. "I'm really tired." This was given as an explanation for what he'd just said before.

She couldn't fight off the uncertainty, and she was unnerved because she kept looking at his face, and she wasn't sure why. When he wasn't smirking or glaring or sniggering, he wasn't actually that bad looking. His eyes connected with hers – something that had never happened before. As if they were equals.

It distressed her. "I have to go!" she swooped up her bag and left quickly, her face a little red.

He let her go, shaking his head. Hemust bereally, really tired.

* * *

_She was only twelve. She shouldn't be kissing him, no she should not. This dark-headed boy – who was he? – should not be her first kiss. It didn't feel right._

_He was cold against her mouth. It was all too passionate, too grown-up, too intense, too painful – but she couldn't escape, she couldn't get away from him, she couldn't breathe…_

Hermione woke up with a gasp. She was cold, too cold, shivering. The room was freezing, an abnormal temperature.

Her room had been changed. On her drawer lay a mirror. She recognised it immediately. It was the mirror Tom Riddle had given her all those years before. _How is it here?_ She hadn't been able to find it – McGonagall had taken it off her years before and Hermione had never been able to find a good reason to ask for it back. But now, here it was, face down, insignificant in all its glory, but very, very important.

She picked it up, and the image of the silver snake flickered in her mind. She waited, but nothing happened. Cautiously, slowly, she brought the mirror to her face, eyes searching it for something unusual, something dangerous….

And there it was. Her hair, which she'd turned back just two hours ago while in the Room of Requirement with Malfoy, was now in the same style before – a shade darker, straight and short, around by her shoulders.

She dropped the mirror where it cracked silently, but that was her only show of emotion. Inside her though, the questions burned. Most prominent was: Who would do this? Malfoy?

* * *

Draco entered the common room late that night. He had expected – perhaps even hoped – that Pansy be up, alone, waiting for him. What he had not expected was for Blaise Zabini to be up, surrounded by a dozen Slytherins, smirking and talking in a extremely loud and smug voice.

"Draco!" Pansy beckoned him over. "You'll never have guessed!"

Draco could guess, alright. He could see for himself the Dark Mark on Blaise's arm where he'd rolled up his shirt sleeve for them all to see.

Draco had guessed two weeks ago. He'd seen the smugness and pride in Blaise's eyes as they regarded each other, and saw that his smirk was present at the more inappropriate times. It was puzzling, however, why Blaise was revealing himself now.

"I have to say," Blaise was saying, "I couldn't believe it when the Dark Lord entrusted me so much as to take a key role in his bringing down of Potter. I was also surprised that it has proven so easy – slipping that potion into the Mudblood's pumpkin juice every supper is easier than…"

"Zabini," Draco's tone was frosty. "A word, please? In privacy?"

Blaise followed Draco into his bedroom eagerly, his eyes seeking approval. "Isn't it marvellous, Draco? I've finally been recruited! Why weren't you at my Incitation?"

"Because, you dimwit, I was supposed to stay here and make sure nobody asked too many questions on where you were." Sometimes it bugged Draco that people immediately assumed he was a Death Eater, but at times it really did work to his advantage. "What do you think you're doing: sharing the Dark Lord's plan with the rest of them! Do you have more than a brain cell?"

"Draco-"

"The Dark Lordcould have you killed," Draco hissed. "If you screw up once, once, he will have no mercy_, no mercy_."

Zabini's eyes were wide. "You won't tell on me, will you?"

"No but I don't trust youto dothis. Give me the potion." Blaise, clearly panicked, rushed to find the bottle that he'd not so carefully hidden. "I will take over from now on. Don't worry, Zabini, I won't take any credit. I just… I don't wish to see you killed." It was true, somewhat. Draco didn't _wish _to see Blaise dead, he didn't care enough to wish.

Why would Voldemort employ such an arrogant, stupid child to do a man's job? Such an important job?

What is Voldemort's plot and what did it have to do with Granger?

Blaise was nodding frantically. "Thanks Malfoy, thanks…"

Blaise was so easily manipulated. It was almost a pity that he was a Death Eater; it was near suicide for such a person after all.

"Leave," Malfoy told him.

"Promise you won't tell anyone? I am so excited! I can't wait to see Granger…. driven mad! Can you?"

Draco nodded and looked pointedly out the door. Blaise left the room.

Draco sat down on his bed and examined the potion. He knew what it was – Dreamless Control. He didn't know, though, why Voldemort would want to take control of Granger's dreams, for he knew it was a very long and tedious way of driving someone mad and that there were much more effective potions, indeed.

_Granger,_

_I know it's late but we need to talk. Now. In the Room of Requirement._

_D.M_

* * *

**_In the next chapter, they travel back into the past, and someone dies! It's all going to be very intense! Bare with me! Please tell me what you think so far!_**


	5. The Decision

_I uploaded the wrong version - one the one riddled with typos- before, so I apologise..._

* * *

"Draco..." The hiss came from the shadows of the hallway. Draco jumped unwillingly and took a step back. He knew that voice.

"Father?"

His father stepped out from the darkness. He surveyed his son with critical eyes and wore a slight smirk. This was typical Malfoy behaviour and, although Draco was beyond used to it by now, he still did not appreciate the feeling of being scrutinised.

"Why are you here, Father?"

"It's a very big day today. And It's time, Draco. It's time for you. The Dark Lord has requested it."

"I told you-" The rest of the words didn't come. It was much easier to tell this to the fiery head of his father, Draco found. It was, after all, common knowledge that one did not argue with Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius watched him silently and, when it was blatantly clear that no more words were coming, he smirked and made a gesture for Draco to follow him.

He was supposed to be meeting Granger. If he yelled loudly enough, would she hear him from here and... and what? What use would Granger be? How embarrassing, to have to call out for her, a Mudblood's help, in a time of need? Lucius would never let him to forget it.

But to get the Dark Mark now. Draco wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he ever would be ready. Sometimes he wondered whether he even cared about the whole Blood issue. Sure, they were irritating and a waste of space but was really wiping them out the solution? Surely, more productive and less violent ways could be considered.

But not by the Dark Lord. He didn't care about political means. He wanted the blood on his hands, the stench of death in his nostrils, the agonizing screams in his ears. Draco, no matter how much he tried to convince himself, didn't think he did.

But his father was clearly unable to understand this and Draco didn't have the balls to lay it out for him that clearly. Draco followed his father sullenly.

He was led to where Umbridge had resided during her time in Hogwarts. His father said nothing while he threw the floo into the fire and Draco, with a push, after it. Draco could see his father was still smirking.

When he stumbled to the ground, a figure was standing above him. Draco knew then that it was too late, that this figure was Draco's new master, Voldemort.

Hermione waited for a long time. It was so late but she could not sleep. Somebody had been in her room, had left that mirror there, and changed her hair. It had to be Malfoy, no body else knew about her hair or her plan. But how would Malfoy get in to her bedroom in the Gryffindor tower? And how would he make the spell permanent? For, despite Hermione's attempts, her hair was still dark and straight and upsetting.

It would also be a dead give away that she was up to something. Harry and Ron would ask questions. Why would she, Hermione Granger, change her hair and why that certain style? A style that made her look so pale and too different?

Somebody was trying to upset her, and she didn't think it was Malfoy.

Who would have the mirror? Why had her room been so, so cold? Hermione wasn't aware of a spell that could change the temperature of a room so drastically. It would certainly take a large amount of power.

And it was a bit strange that she'd just awoken from that strange dream, the ones that she'd been having as of late.

What did Malfoy want, at this time of night anyway? She wouldn't have came, if not her the fact that she hadn't been able to get back to sleep. Why was he not here now? Was this some kind of stupid joke, to get her here and not turn up? Was he really that immature?

Well, he was. But she'd started thinking of him a little differently lately. How _disappointing_...

It wasn't cold here in the Room of Requirement. Quite comfy, really. Tiredness washed over her, and she settled herself down on the couch. She'd just have a little rest. She really didn't want to return to that freezing room again.

Draco made himself stand up. He was scared. He'd never before seen the Dark Lord face to face. Part of him was excited to. Having heard so much about him, Draco was eager to see what all the hullabaloo was about.

He found, however, that his fear had temporally dumbed him. But he couldn't be dumb in the Dark Lord's presence. He had killed people for much less.

Hastily, Draco bowed. The movement was so jerked and quick, his stomach flopped.

"Draco Malfoy..." That terrible high-pitched voice breathed. "How nice of you to join us."

Lucius appeared from the fireplace beside him and put a hand on his son's shoulder. It was not comforting; it was not meant to be.

Voldemort walked slowly around Draco, looking at him. Then someone, Wormtail maybe, pulled Draco upright and forward. His father let his hand drop. Voldemort wore a cold cruel smile on his snake-like face, and he seemed satisfied with himself.

"You understand, Draco Malfoy, that you are entering into my leadership. You are to be part of a, shall we call it, cult. You will belong to me, and will do as I wish. I will be your leader. Disobedience and foolishness will not be rewarded here and you will be punished as thus. You are to be part of my overall mission to rid the Wizarding World of the fifth which now resides in it with increasing strides. You will now be branded with my Mark, The Dark Mark, and will come when duty calls. You will be called a Death Eater. Do you understand?"

"I do, my lord," Draco answered in a mono-tone, the tone his father always used.

"Then..." Voldemort took a cold, hard grip on Draco arm, pulling his sleeve up. "Welcome..."

With Voldemort's cold mocking laugh in his ears and his finger on Draco's appearing brand, all Draco could feel was mind-numbing pain. He could not fight. He could not scream. All he could do was try not to cry...

Ginny awoke and was surprised not to hear Hermione tossing in her sleep like normal. Something is wrong, Ginny suddenly thought. Her instinct had always been good before and yet, she did doubt herself. She lifted herself out of be. She felt like she was floating, sill half asleep. Wearing only a white slip, she should have felt colder but she didn't. The floor felt smooth under her bare feet. The moon was shining into the room and that, mixed with the darkness, made the room appear almost blue.

She walked slowly and quietly into the next room, the room where Lavender, Pavarti and Hermione shared. Hermione's bed was empty.

Where would she be? Ginny's thoughts were slow.

The library?

Now that Ginny was up, she decided she might as well have a look for Hermione. With a glance at the clock, Ginny concluded that it was too late for anyone to be paroling the hall and that she had minimal risk of getting caught.

Ginny strolled through the hallway. Everything looked different at night time. She was in no rush. She didn't believe Hermione was in trouble. She enjoyed the walk, looking at everything. She hadn't been for a night stroll in such a long time, not since Second Year when she had trouble sleeping.

Then, suddenly, there was the sound of loud footsteps, running down the hallway. Ginny, not the fastest at even normal hours of the day, could do nothing but stare as Draco Malfoy ran towards her.

He looked weird. He was shaking and sweaty. His eyes were white when he surveyed her, almost feverishly. His hands were sticky on her forearms as he caught hold of her, urgently.

"Are you alright, Malfoy?" She was more bemused than afraid.

"Where's... I dunno what to do," he swallowed heavily then crumbled in on himself. Now she grew worried. He didn't react as she shook him, trying to awake him.

"I'll be right back," she told his still body and ran stealthy to the owlery.

"Hedwig," she yelled, waking the white owl. "I need you to find Hermione and lead her to the statue outside the Room Of Requirement! Keep pecking her until she comes! I'll be there!"

Owls were really amazing creatures, not including Pig. Hedwig would find Hermione, and Hermione would know what to do. She was always better dealing with Malfoy-related things than Ginny. Ginny returned to him, where he had not moved position. She only knew he was alive, because of his shaky, shuddering breath.

Hermione awoke to find Hedwig pecking her and, once awake, the owl flew the exit and squawked loudly. Afraid Hedwig was going to wake someone else up, she followed it. Once out of the Room of Requirement, she saw two pale people, one with red hair, one with grey, lying on the ground, one moving, one not.

"Ginny, what happened to him!"

"I dunno, do I? He doesn't look well. D'you think we should take him to the Hospital Wing? I couldn't carry him on my own."

Malfoy was just coming to. "Granger," he said and his voice was shaky. "I'm so tired. I just ran from them. They're coming! We have to go! We have to go NOW!"

"Go where?"

"Back into the Past! We have to fix this!"

"What's wrong, Malfoy? What happened?"

"I was just made into a Death Eater, Granger. And, and at the meeting, I just saw Dumbledore being killed! Professor Dumbledore!"

Neither of the two girls could react. They just gaped at him.

"Where's the Time Turner, Granger? Do you have it on you?"

"Yes," she replied slowly. "You Know I bring it to all our meetings. It's in the Room Of Requirement."

"Then we have to go! We have to!" He pushed himself up, and stared into her eyes. "Because they're coming, Granger. I just ran from them! They're in Hogwarts _now_, they can with Dumbledore's protection gone, and they're going to kill us all!"

* * *

_Please, please, please review!_


	6. The Hand

There was no time to waste. Hermione found herself caught in Draco's urgency. She couldn't understand anything, and yet she believed him. She didn't know why. She hadn't even considered the fact that he was a Death Eater now. She ran into the Room of Requirement, Ginny following her. Malfoy was pushing in front of her, breathing heavily.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Ginny pleaded. "Hermione, you can't just-"

"It's better than doing nothing! If Malfoy's telling the truth, I have no choice! And, even if he's not telling the truth, I was going to go back anyway. It's too big a risk, Ginny. If Dumbledore is really dead..."

Ginny opened her mouth to argue but Hermione wouldn't let her. "Think of Harry, Gin. He can't die. You know he can't."

She threw the chain of the time turner around both her and Malfoy's neck.

"Please... please come back to me, Hermione." Ginny's wide, dark eyes were full of tears.

"I will," Hermione promised.

She turned the time turner forty nine times, one for every year. It took a minute.

Just as the world was starting to fall beneath her feet and her vision was getting fuzzy, she heard a loud bang. Figures were appearing in the room, dark figures... Death Eaters. She heard voices, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. She saw, before her vision went completely blank, Ginny's vivid red head falling to the ground.

"Ginny!" she tried to scream but she no longer had the body to do so.

* * *

Her head was spinning. She was aware of nothing, except that she had never experienced anything like this before in her life. This world had no substance. Colours flashed in front of her eyes. Colours that she'd never seen before. They had no names, they were too bright for her eyes to take in properly. Her body felt strange, light and floating. This was un-mundane, unnatural and yet she was not afraid.

Malfoy was there...

She moved towards him, she wasn't exactly sure how. He was solid, real. His eyes were full of light. The minute her hand grasped his arm, she fell, and dragged him down with her. She felt an uprising terror, as she realised she was going to keep falling forever... there was no end to this. She was going to fall for ever, and ever, and ever...

* * *

She didn't fall, exactly. She stumbled into Malfoy, and Malfoy fell to the ground. She had never felt so dizzy in her life. She grasped on to the wall to keep her balance. Malfoy stayed on the floor, too dazed to make himself stand. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, silent except for their deep breathing.

Finally, she felt steady enough to let go of the wall. She reached out her hand to Malfoy. He ignored it and pulled himself up. She withdrew the hand into her own pocket.

"Did it work?" he asked in an oddly choked voice.

"I think so."

They were in the Room of Requirement, but Ginny and the Death Eaters were not there. The room was the same, but it felt different. Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door. It was still and dark outside. Of course it was, it was extremely late. The hall looked the same too. She walked cautiously out. She hoped with all she had that it had worked. Otherwise, everything had been a waste.

She couldn't even think about what had happened, a mere minute ago. All she could do was silently pray that Ginny was alright.

Malfoy followed her out and, together, they began to explore.

"The knights don't look as old," Hermione observed weakly.

"Yes they do," he spat. "Fifty years would make little difference to knights that old."

"We- we should go to Dumbledore's office," she said uncertainly after fifteen minutes of finding nothing.

He turned sharply to face her. "That wasn't part of the plan."

"None of this was." She looked down at the floor. "We are unprepared. We need help. Dumbledore will help us. He will be able to believe us."

He stared at her for a while but apparently could not come up with a better option. When she moved towards Dumbledore's office, he followed her, but only to stop her. "Dumbledore wasn't Headmaster at this time," he told her. "He was Transfiguration teacher. He should in McGonagall's quarters now."

She nodded, feeling a bit foolish, and they both began to travel to where McGonagall's office had been in their proper time. When there, he did nothing and, timidly, she knocked on the door, afraid of what she could see. What if they were in the complete wrong time altogether?

They weren't. Dumbledore appeared at the door. It was clear he didn't recognise them. Yet, his expression was open and gentle. Welcoming. Maybe it was because both Hermione and Draco looked so shaken, or maybe it was because they were wearing their Hogwarts uniforms, or maybe it was just because Dumbledore was not a hostile person. Hermione suddenly felt beyond relived. It was always okay, if Dumbledore was on their side. It was always okay, if he was alive.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," she breathed, but that was as far as she could get on her own.

"I think we need to talk," Malfoy said to him. He looked at Dumbledore with such urgency that Dumbledore gestured for them to come inside, and shut the door behind them.

Hermione watched Dumbledore as he made them two cups of tea. He looked a bit younger, his hair was a little less silvery, his skin was a bit smoother, but he was Dumbledore; kind, safe, powerful Dumbledore. She couldn't believe that just minutes before, she'd been trying to cope with his death, and yet here he was, alive and well. It was enough to make her cry; an overload of emotion. She was embarrassed when the tears rolled down her face. Malfoy's expression was more than disdainful, as he told her, "Get a grip."

"Come now," Dumbledore led her to a seat and smiled down at her kindly. "I'm sure there's no reason to go getting yourself upset. I'm not sure I know your name." He pushed the tea into her hand.

"It's Hermione Granger, sir."

When Hermione heard Malfoy's sharp intake of breath, she realised that, that in fact was not her name. Not anymore. But she couldn't lie to Dumbledore, she couldn't. Not when he should really be dead. She put the tea down; she had little appetite for it.

"Miss Granger," he repeated and smiled again, his blue eyes twinkling. "And you, of course," he turned to Draco, "are a Malfoy. Draco, perhaps?"

Malfoy scowled, but his scowl was not as vicious as normal. She presumed, but she may have been giving him too much credit, that he was as relieved as her to see their Headmaster alive. Draco had been rather upset before, upset enough to run from his father and his new leader. He had put his tea on the table too, and showed no interest of drinking it.

Malfoy nodded sullenly and asked, "How is it that you know that?"

"I know many things," Dumbledore said, eyes still twinkling, "some useful, some not."

"But _how_?" Malfoy didn't seem to want to leave at that.

"I see you are wearing the Hogwarts uniform," Dumbledore said swiftly, "and yet I know you are not current students. I'm afraid I must request an explanation. Miss Granger, perhaps?"

She hated having to turn to Malfoy for answers, but she herself was not sure how much to tell him.

"We're from the future, Professor Dumbledore," Malfoy answered, almost lazily. "We can't tell you too much, we can't change too much of the future without being sure we know we are doing the right thing. But we do need your help. How do you think we should go about trying to get enrolled into Hogwarts, so late in the school year?"

"Oh," Dumbledore replied, "I'm sure I could take care of that. I do have many ties. I must ask you to promise one thing though, I'm afraid. And that is this, you are doing good here. Your intentions are honourable and for the best. You are... are on my side."

"Yes, sir," Hermione answered, almost immediately.

Draco took a little longer. He looked deep into those blue eyes, and seemed deep in thought. Then, just before Hermione thought she was going to start screaming at him, he said, "Yes, sir."

Hermione noticed that Malfoy was unconsciously rubbing his forearm, where she knew he was branded by darkness.

Hermione wondered whether Dumbledore noticed.

If he did, he showed no signs of it.

"We will have to go to Hogsmeade," Malfoy told Dumbledore after a moment's silence. "We have no supplies. We are not prepared. Granger needs some new clothes, as do I. For the weekends, you know. I have money. Enough for both of us."

"You must sleep there tonight also," Dumbledore said in reply. He rooted through his robe pocket and found what he was looking for: a white and blue sachet that jingled full of coins. He gave it to Hermione, who smiled graciously. She had not wished to have to rely on Malfoy, who was, after all, still someone she was not friends with.

Dumbledore turned from them and picked up something from his shelf. It was a tea pot, the one he had made the tea with. He turned back to them, held it out to them, and touched it with his wand. "Touch the port key, holding hands, and it will take you to Hogsmeade. Keep a low cover. Do not change anything, if you can help it. Use the portkey again, at three o' clock tomorrow, that should give you adequate time to get your supplies together, and you will be brought here, where we will further analyse the situation. I have a lot to think about, for just one night."

Hermione hesitated in taking Draco's hand. When she did, she was surprised to find it was warm. Gripping on, she touched the portkey.

"I have waited a long time for you to come, Hermione," Dumbledore said gravely.

Before she could open her mouth to reply, the portkey was activated. She felt the familiar sensation in her tummy, and, when she opened her eyes she hadn't realised she had closed, she was in Hogsmeade, still holding Malfoy's hand.

Hogsmeade was so different, unlike Hogwarts which hadn't changed at all. It was so undeveloped. Nobody was around, it _was _late, but the town still seemed quieter and smaller than before. Many of her favourite shops were missing. There was few houses to be seen, unlike what Hermione was used to seeing. Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed. Things were so, so different there, that she finally realised that she was in a completely different time zone to all her friends. All she had to rely on was Dumbledore and Malfoy.

Feeling so lost, she didn't let go of Malfoy's hand.

Perhaps from seeing her upset face, he, thankfully, didn't protest. For once.

Maybe he needed the support too.

* * *

_Yay! I liked this chapter! Sorry it's been so long for some Tom Riddle! he's in the next chapter, I swear! I just had to set a couple of things straight with Malfoy/Hermione, I have, after all, shipped them for practically forever, where as I am new to Hermione/Tom. Any one any tips? I'm sure there are some cliches you do not want to see but, sadly, I am completly ignorant, which might work in my favour or not, I don't know!_

_Anyway, I have most of the next two chapters written, although I have exams and cramming to do for the next two weeks, so it might be a little longer before I get it up! Review to cheer me up and hurry me on!_

_Anyone up to anything unique for the summer? I can't believe it's Summer already... I'm only getting over Christmas!_

_Good luck to Ireland in the Eurovision semi-finals on tonight! I'm Irish and, although our song is complete rubbish, part of me is still hoping they'll win!_

_I'm awfully chatty today! Anyone any news? I have none except for that I'm better now (i was sick for ages), I think I'm FINALLY over my ex, my (male) old teacher was being all suggestive and slimy to me today and it was gross, and that I have started a new job that's so stressful but pays way better than my last one!_

_Thank yous for reviews for the last chapter and this chappie will be in the next chapter! I have to go study English...my best subject...now for three solid hours with my best mate! Ciao!_

_Review! Even just to give me a laugh or something more interesting than study to do/read! And check out my stories, particularly my other D/Hr story, Doomed! These two are my summer projects!_


	7. The Spell

Draco and Hermione booked into separate rooms, and Hermione tossed and turned all night. She couldn't stop her mind from thinking. It buzzed all night. What had happened to Ginny? Was she okay? Was she...dead?

No. Hermione knew that she had to focus on her mission. She had to reach Tom Riddle and make him see how bad things were, and how they couldn't end up the way they did. She had to make him see things for her point of view. She had to.

She was intrigued to see what might happen when she met Tom. She let herself fantasise how it might happen. It was strange but, somewhere in her mind, the connection between Tom and Voldemort was lost. If not for the fact that she knew, she knew how he turned out, she would never believe it. He was too young and, well, _good looking_. But then, people said the devil was good looking too, and look at how bad he was!

That night, for the first time in ages, she didn't dream anything strange.

* * *

In the morning, both Hermione and Draco were subdued. They said little to each other, and walked with a large space between them. Hermione had never felt so far away from him. He wasn't even acting like her enemy anymore, he was just...nothing to her at that moment. She had nothing to say to him, even to argue. Last night, she'd felt some kind of support, reluctant or not, from him, but now there was nothing but indifference in his attitude towards her.

He didn't even mock or seem anyway amused when picking out clothes for her, Pure-Blood clothes. When she tried things on, he didn't laugh or tease. Instead he replied with either a nod or a shake of his head. It bugged her, but she didn't know how to make things better between them. This was better than constant bickering...wasn't it?

She wasn't so sure. With three full bags of clothes she didn't particularly like, she followed after him. He seemed to know his way around, or maybe he was just better at adapting to new places than her. He picked out lots of new clothes for himself - four bags full - but he didn't consult her on one.

They returned at two to their rooms. She lay down on her bed and picked up her new book, Hogwarts; a History, an unrevised version of her present day one, and read for a bit. At five to three, she packed up her new belongings and knocked on Malfoy's door. He answered, regarded her coolly than stepped back to let her in.

His room was practically identical to hers. She still examined it, because she didn't want to look at him and she had nothing better to do.

At three, he gestured towards the portkey and reached out his hand. Silently, she accepted his hand, it seemed cooler this time, and, with the other hand, touched the teapot. They waited together silently; not an uncomfortable silence. She threw him an uncertain look when nothing was happening but he didn't return her look, waiting patiently.

Finally, it seemed like such a long time to Hermione, she felt herself being transported.

She only realised she was in Dumbledore's office when she felt Malfoy drop her hand immediately. She opened her eyes to see Dumbledore blinking down at them.

"Good Afternoon," Dumbledore greeted.

Both Hermione and Draco only mumbled in reply.

"I have talked to your new Headmaster, and he is curious but pleased to accept you into Hogwarts, on my recommendation. Between you and me," he winked at them, "I think our dear old headmaster, Professor Dippet would eat his own shoe, if I ask him nicely enough."

Hermione had the decency to fake laughter. Draco didn't.

"Now," Dumbledore said. "How about we do a private sorting?"

Hermione looked uneasily at Draco. He seemed perfectly relaxed and returned her look calmly.

"Mr Malfoy, if you please." Dumbledore revealed the old dusty hat. It seemed the hat, like the rest of Hogwarts, had not changed much either. It was as dirty and unimpressive as ever, except for when it sprang to life.

Malfoy sat. This time, however, the sorting hat took much longer to decide, unlike before when it had been painfully clear that the hat had no quarrels sending him to Slytherin. Even Draco seemed a bit ruffled by the delay.

"Slytherin!" the hat yelled eventually.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Your turn, Miss... Zabini, isn't it? Sorry, you just look like more of a Granger to me." Hermione had filled Dumbledore in on her "real" name, apologising profusely for having "lied" before. Hermione reckoned Dumbledore didn't believe a word of it, but he didn't mention it, so neither did she.

_Ah_, the hat said inside her head_, what a thirst for knowledge you have, Miss Zabini. Quite a sly nature too, when you need to use it. Lots of ambition. Very loyal, too, I see, you will always stand by people, once they have earned your trust. But where to put you?_

"I need you," she told the hat, feeling determined, "to put me into Slytherin." Harry had told her that it was what you really wanted that affected the hat's final decision. Hermione hoped that Harry was right. Tom would never listen to her, if she were in Gryffindor.

_Slytherin will help you with your destiny. Slytherin will aid you in what you need to do. _There was an odd note in the hat's voice in her head; one she did not like.

"Slytherin!" the hat announced.

She met Malfoy's eyes and he showed his first bit of expression in that day; a smirk.

Dumbledore nodded again; one quick decisive nod.

Hermione remembered her sorting before, back when she had been only eleven years old. She had been so nervous. The hat had asked her then, _"Any preferences then, Miss...oh...Granger now, is it?" _She had thought it a bit odd before but now she found it odder. Had the... had the hat known her, recognised her, from fifty years before? The thought made her head spin... which came first, and which came after? But she had only been eleven then, and now she was sixteen... it was strange, like remembering a dream that she had thought made perfect sense at the time, but slowly realising later it hadn't made much sense at all.

"I have your books prepared for you. They will be transported to your new rooms shortly. I will introduce you at dinner time, where you will then settle yourself in to the Slytherin Common Room. The password is Time," he winked at Hermione and Draco again. "I will expect you to be in your classes tomorrow. Here are your time tables. Everybody is in class currently, but you are free to roam the school. It's rather chilly out, so I would recommend going to the library. However, I'm sure you already know that." He smiled knowingly. Hermione took that as a dismissal and, after thanking him, she left, with Draco close on her heels.

It was only when she was outside his quarters, that she realised she hadn't asked him what he had meant before, when he said he'd waited a long time for her to come. But, having known Dumbledore for longer than he even knew, she was well aware of the fact that he would probably not have answered her, or given her some vague answer that would only make sense to her in years to come.

She walked to the library, aware of Draco walking behind her. She only knew he was there by his strong presence. His steps were completely silent. Had he always walked that way, like a predator? Or was that a new feature, along with that pretty new tattoo on his arm?

She strolled through the library, another feature that hadn't changed, except that there were a few books missing. She took a random one of the shelf and sat herself down at a table. He stood by her for a few minutes and then, when she cast him an annoyed glance, he sat down. He didn't have a book with him.

She tried to read, but she could feel those grey eyes on her. After a while, she felt like she couldn't swallow and slowly put down the book, looking at him pointedly.

"I suppose we should talk," she said, when he still remained quiet.

"I don't want to."

This was said coldly.

"What's wrong with you today? Why are you being so...odd? Last night, you were okay, now you're acting like a sulky child!" She was never good at keeping things to herself.

"A sulky child, am I? I don't think you quite understand the situation I'm in, _Granger_. I have disgraced the Malfoy family, I lost everything the second I ran from my father. I am a Death Eater; your side will not accept me. I don't want to be on your side, I don't belong there. I hate you. I hate Potter. Merlin, I hated Dumbledore. And now, here I am, in the past with you, doing Merlin-knows-what! Your side doesn't even stand a chance with Dumbledore dead; I watched him die, Granger. I can see you are trying to deny that his death happened, but I watched him, I watched the Dark Lord make him scream. All I keep thinking over and over and over again, is why did I run? Why did I run... towards the Room of Requirement? Towards where I thought you, _you_, a Mudblood, might be? It doesn't make sense."

She watched him and then, when it appeared he had nothing else to say, she leaned over and took his hand in hers. "You ran," she told him, and he looked up at her, "because you knew that the Light Side didn't have a chance, with Voldemort and the Death Eaters in Hogwarts. You ran, because you knew the Dark Lord was going to kill Harry, and he's our last chance. You ran, because you knew that there was only one way that you could change things, and that was this, our plan. You ran, because you didn't have a choice."

He stared at her, seemingly without reply. They stayed like that for a long time, looking at each other.

"Can I see it?" she asked finally, through the silence.

He flinched, but rolled up his sleeve to his elbow and leaned forwards to show it to her.

It was red, not black or green like she had always imagined. It was like a tattoo. It was a skull, with a snake protruding from its mouth. It was quite small, but very, very ugly. She rubbed it with her two fingers, but it felt smooth, just like the rest of his skin. His arm looked white in comparison. She didn't like it. It was clear he didn't either.

"What actually happened at that meeting?" she asked. She wasn't sure why she was whispering, they were completely and utterly alone.

"I can't... I don't want to talk about that, Granger. You shouldn't have to listen to that anyway."

"But don't you see, Malfoy, we have to work together! We can't keep secrets from each other, not anymore."

"I'm not keeping secrets from you, Granger. I just don't want to think about that, just yet. It's just a bit soon, alright?" His tone was a bit harsh.

"_Fine_. Why did you want to see me that night? You sent me a note." She found that she was getting a little irritated. She folded her arms.

"Oh...that. Don't worry about that. That's not important, not now."

"Are you going to tell me anything?" Her voice was high pitched. She found that her face was hot.

"Why did you change your hair back?" he questioned her now. "It's dark and kind of straight again. Why did you do that? Were you - were you planning to go back to the past without me? Is that it?" His tone was accusing.

"No! I just felt like it!" she snarled back in reply. She didn't feel in the mood to explain to him, about the unknown visitor in her room.

Draco, who had seen how freaked out she had been by that particular hair design before, didn't believe her at all.

Both of them sat back into their chairs. She picked up her book again, her face still flushed. They both wanted to ask questions, but both were too stubborn to be the first to speak.

* * *

"Come on," she told him, standing up, at ten to six, "we'd better be off."

He smirked, and continued to sit.

"Come on, Malfoy!" she persisted.

"I wasn't aware this mark on my arm meant I had to follow your rule, Granger. Unless, of course, you are the Dark Lord in disguise, which would, of course, explain a couple of things."

"You shouldn't even be joking about that!" she hissed, but her voice was very low. A couple of students had appeared in the library once classes were over. Hermione didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to them.

Draco continued to sit.

"You know what, Malfoy, fine. You stay there, and you be happy with yourself. Don't even bother coming to dinner, you can starve for all I care!" She turned and stormed off, leaving him to sit on his own, quite happy with himself and smirking.

* * *

Hermione felt very alone as she walked into the Great Hall. It was a feeling Hermione had experienced all through her Muggle life, and through most of her first year. She didn't feel like she belonged. Nobody was paying her the least bit of attention, but Hermione felt like they were all whispering at her. Uneasily, she made her way up to the teacher's table, where they looked at her curiously.

Dumbledore stood up and went to her. "Where is Mr Malfoy?"

She swallowed. Her lack of sleep the night before was catching up on her. "I don't know." This came out more defensive than she had meant it to, but Dumbledore only smiled and waited.

Malfoy came in the door five minutes after her. Dinner had started at this stage, and people were beginning to notice Hermione, standing beside Dumbledore, by the Head table. He strolled up easily to meet them, and students definitely noticed Malfoy. He appeared to be enjoying it. He greeted Dumbledore with a nod and Hermione with a smirk. She had to restrain herself not to hit him.

"Are you ready?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes on Hermione. Malfoy nodded in reply and she found herself nodding too, although she was not sure. She felt sick and anxious. This was it... this was it... she couldn't mess this up, she couldn't.

"Excuse me," Dumbledore clapped his hands, and received attention immediately. "We have two new students joining us today. I would like to introduce you to Miss Hermione Zabini and Mr Draco Malfoy. They have already been sorted and both will be joining the Slytherin House. Now, until now they have been home schooled, so joining a new school must be rather scary so I'm sure they would appreciate it if you co-operate with them to make the transfer as easy as possible. Welcome, Mr Malfoy, Miss Zabini, and I hope you have a pleasant time in your new school. Now, I'm sure the Headmaster has a few announcements to make, so if you'd like to join the Slytherin table..."

Hermione and Malfoy went to join their new house mates. They had to pass the other tables to do so, and Hermione was shocked by the hostile looks she was thrown. Were they all as rude to Slytherins in the present-day Hogwarts? She didn't like it. Malfoy, however, seemed unaffected.

She sat down in a seat next to a blonde girl. Malfoy's words from their few lessons crept into her head: _"First opinions are everything, Granger. Don't seem too eager to say hello to anyone. Sit up straight, regard the person of your choice, look them in the eyes and smirk. Oh, yeah, you're not able to smirk. A nod, then. Nod, then keep looking them in the eye. If they nod back, look at them somewhat knowingly, then turn away, as if you've tired of them. Do not talk while eating. Fifty years ago, it would have been very inappropriate. Glance around the table and see who seems the most impressive. Stare at them until they look at you, and do the same pattern again; look them in the eye, nod, keep looking at them, receive their reply, then turn away. Do not change your pattern for different people. You have to treat every one the same. You do not want to make any enemies in the Slytherin House." _

Hermione did as he had told her. The Blonde girl received her nod with one of her own and Hermione turned away first. She scanned the table and nodded at nearly every third person. She met Draco's eyes from across the table. She looked him in the eye and nodded. He smirked in reply, a meaningful smirk, and then turned to face the right. She followed his gaze and saw what he was looking at.

Tom Riddle sat at the top of the table, sitting straight and silent, dark and handsome.

He was looking right at Hermione.

Her heart beating, she looked right back at him and, trying hard to swallow, nodded.

He nodded back.

She was supposed to turn away now, it was her que.

But she couldn't get her eyes off of him.

He was Tom Riddle, Harry's parent's murderer, the Dark Lord with the red eyes who had attacked her parents, who had made Dumbledore scream. But she couldn't stop looking at those dark eyes and the matching dark hair and those lips, curved into a smirk now.

She was transfixed, caught in a spell even she, Hermione Granger, didn't know how to break.

* * *

_Hermione's character will not be weak, this is just her first reaction. Hope you like it so far, and please review!_


	8. The Slytherins

It was only when she dragged herself away from Tom's face that Hermione noticed the girl beside her, the blonde girl, was in a wheelchair.

"Yes," the girl said to Hermione, "I'm in a wheel chair. You can put your eyes back into their sockets now. Unless, of course, that dumbstruck look is what you're going for." She raised a nearly invisible eyebrow.

Hermione had to swallow back her first reaction, which was to apologize immediately. Draco's eyes on her reminded her that she was no longer Hermione Granger. She was Hermione Zabini, and it was time she acted like it.

"Hermione Zabini," Hermione offered her hand instead of apologizing, her face impassive.

"Ashley Parkinson. Everyone calls me Ash though." The girl smirked. "You can too, I suppose."

"Thanks a million, _Ashley_." Hermione smirked back. She had been practicing her smirk for some time now, and only two days ago had Draco told her he was finally satisfied with it.

"No, seriously," the girl didn't smile, "it's Ash."

Parkinson, a relative of Pansy's then. How strange. The girl didn't remind her of Pansy at all. For one, this girl's nose was small and narrow, unlike Pansy's pug nose. This girl was skinner too, thin and willowy. Pansy was large and man-like. Ash wasn't very pretty though. Her face was indrawn and pale, her skin nearly the same colour as her hair. She looked like she'd never been out in the sun.

"Come on, then," Ash sighed. "I suppose I better show you where you're staying. You're in my room. You had better not snore."

"I don't," Hermione said in way of reply.

She let Ash lead the way. Before going, she turned back to Malfoy. He nodded once, giving her his approval. So, she hadn't messed up just yet.

"Come on, Sally," Ash said to a small tanned girl, sitting with a book in her hand. Sally looked up at Ash, then Hermione, then slowly put her book down, pushed back her chair, stood up and joined them. She didn't rush herself.

Together they walked. Neither of the girls talked, so Hermione didn't either. Their footsteps seemed loud in comparison.

"Welcome," Ash said, once they were at the Slytherin Entrance, "to Slytherin House, the best house Hogwarts has to offer." She smiled, just for a second, turned to the wall, and a stone door that Hermione hadn't previously seen slid open, once Sally had muttered the password, "Time."

The Slytherin Common room was exactly as Hermione might have pictured it. It was dark and somewhat claustrophobic. The stone roof was very low, and dim green lamps hung from it, their purpose seeming to be to create more shadows than light. A fire cackled and Slytherins sat around it, in carved steal chairs. There was something almost menacing in the scene; she could see no faces but silhouettes. The fire was the only source of warmth.

Hermione wished, illogically, that Malfoy was here.

"Sit, Zabini," Ash said, gesturing towards a chair.

"Thank you," Hermione said, and accepted the chair. It felt strange to be called Zabini, but she was quick on the uptake. She didn't think Ash would appreciate too many lapses of concentration.

She felt uneasy as she looked into Ash's strange titled eyes. They were glittering at her, and they seemed to change colours. They seemed green, and then blue, then a mixture of both, but perhaps Hermione was just tired.

Sally didn't seem interested in either of them. She picked up her book, and continued to read. Hermione wasn't sure what to do. Ash was still looking at her. Hermione focused all her energies into not revealing her discomfort. It was hard work.

The stone door slid open and Hermione looked to see whom it was. It was Malfoy, followed by another boy, and Tom Riddle. Malfoy was leading the way. He came to where she was seating, dragged up a chair, and sat down. "Hermione," he said, "why don't your introduce me?"

"Of course, Draco," she replied, her tone as level as his. She heard, rather than saw; the two other boys sit down near her. "This is Ash Parkinson and this is Sally - I'm sorry, Sally, I didn't get your last name."

"Bishop."

"This is Sally Bishop. This, Sally, Ash, is Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy, eh?" Ash said, looking him up and down. "What an interesting family history you have."

He nodded. "The Parkinson history is equally as interesting. I'm afraid, however, that I don't have much knowledge about the Bishop family."

Sally looked up, and didn't look back down at her book. "It's Pure-Blood, if that's what you mean." Her tone was defensive, her head tilted.

"Well," Hermione said, not wanting to be left out, "I'm sure he, as I had, presumed as much."

Ash laughed and Sally, after a moment looking at Hermione, laughed also. Hermione could tell from Draco eyes that he was impressed.

"Tom Riddle."

It came out of nowhere, and Hermione was caught of guard. She turned to face Tom and said, "Excuse me?"

"Tom Riddle," he repeated, in the same quiet tone and slowly offered her his hand.

"Hermione Zabini," she said and shook his hand briefly. It was cool under her touch. She looked him straight in the eyes. They were so dark, she felt like she could fall into them and get lost. She couldn't deny the fact to herself that she was scared.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." The group had gone quiet. Ash was watching them carefully; so was Draco.

"Likewise," she said. Her throat felt very dry.

He was draining. She physically and mentally felt tired, just looking at him.

"Weasley," Tom said and turned to the other boy, "aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

Hermione had prepared herself for many things, but not this. A Weasley in Slytherin! But what was more shocking was the fact that he was practically identical to Ron, if not for the bored and smirking expression on his face.

"Law Weasley," he said. "How do you do, Hermione Zabini? I'm sure you'll like it here at Hogwarts." His tone was insufferably bored and monotone. He didn't mean a word of what he said, he made that perfectly clear. He turned to Tom afterwards, his meaning blatant: _Is that enough for you, Tom? _He hadn't stretched out his hand, a mark of rudeness at this time, according to Draco.

Hermione decided to take a risk. She offered him her own hand. It wasn't normally done, but Hermione wanted to show this Weasley boy that she would not appreciate his bad manners. It annoyed her more, because he looked so closely like one of her best friends.

He took her hand reluctantly, his face sulky. His blue eyes were narrowed.

Hermione openly smiled at him; it was not a pleasant smile.

Draco was smirking, as was Tom.

Ash and Sally exchanged a look.

The boys seemed to have already made their introductions to each other.

"How do you two know each other?" Ash asked Malfoy and Hermione, after a couple of minutes of silence.

"Our families are old friends," Hermione said. _Don't give too much away, _Draco had said. _Never make them overly suspicious, but remember to keep an air of mystery about you. You do not want them to get too interested in your business._

Malfoy nodded in affirmation. "We've known each other for a long time, since we were very young." He smiled over at Tom.

What did that mean? Why did Malfoy say that? Why had he smiled at Tom like that? There had been an air of suggestiveness there that had not been part of their plan. She fought the urge to elbow him in the stomach, and smiled also.

That was when it hit Hermione, the power Draco actually had. Any lie that Malfoy fabricated, she would have to go along with. She couldn't oppose him, that would make everybody suspicious. She couldn't help looking at him then. He was enjoying this, telling lies, deceiving these people. He was a good actor, but she could read him quite well.

"I think I'm going to go to bed, if you'll excuse me," Sally said, after another lapse in conversation.

"I think I'll join you," Hermione said, relief flooding in her chest. She needed a rest.

Sally and Hermione stood. "I'll be with you in a few minutes," Ash said. "I'm not tired just yet."

"Goodnight, Hermione," Tom said softly as she began to leave.

She wanted to run to the bedroom but forced herself to walk away slowly after Sally. She hardly glanced at the room - stone walls, plain, cold - but threw the curtains around her bed. She changed into her new, modest nightdress and hoped into her new bed.

She found though that she was so tired that she couldn't sleep. The room was too dark, the bed too hard, the temperature too cold, and the people sharing too quiet.

She lay there for a long time, thinking back into her old life where the fires were warm, the beds soft, the conversation not forced, the people friendly, the laughter real and the smiles not smirks. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she was reading over her perfect Potion's essay at the breakfast table, scolding Ron for talking with his mouth full, and smiling over at Harry when he agreed with her that it really would be preferable if "you just waited until you'd swallowed."

She heard Ash come in nearly a half an hour later and wiped the warm tears that had been streaming down her face away. There was no Ash could see, her curtains were still drawn, but Hermione had made too many sacrifices to take any chances.

Hermione wondered, not for the first time nor the last, what she had gotten herself into.

* * *

_I know, not much in this chapter. Thought I'd just introduce the couple of Slytherins without jumping into the plot – and Tom. Don't think the OCs will have a big part, just side characters. Sorry this took me a while to get up, I had exams. Yuck, so did not go well. I had to skip maths. _

_Anyway…Thanks to: hplucky, seghen,illyria-light, dark88poet, Alenor, for their reviews of the last chapter._

_Question: Where do you lot get your pen names from? Just wondering…_


	9. The Difficulty

Hermione woke up, and instantly felt strange. Where was she? She did not recognise her surroundings, nor did she feel welcome there. It took her only a moment to gather herself and remember her quest into the past, but it was a moment too long and a lingering sense of uncertainty stayed with her, even after she'd lifted herself from the bed, greeted Ash and Sally, and dumped herself in the shower.

She couldn't quite believe she had actually gone through with this. The hot water in her shower washed around her, and she tried to relax her tense muscles but with little success. How could she have done this to herself?

She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Ginny, and was she okay. The thought of abandoning Ginny and all the others just when they needed her disturbed her greatly and she pushed the thought from her mind.

I'm trying my best, she thought. I'm doing what I think is right. I'm doing what I think I have to do. I have to try.

She stepped out of the shower and looked worriedly at her hair. It looked different…Oh dear! It was frizzing up again, wasn't it? She peered in the mirror and felt unbelievably anxious. She couldn't afford for her hair to mess her plan up.

Malfoy….Malfoy would have to help her!

She drew the towel around her and, with panicky jerky movements, she threw on a plain black robe and little else and ran to the boys' dormitory before freezing. What was she doing? She couldn't just march in there and demand Malfoy to tame her hair! Tom was in there! She had to stay cool, stay calm-

"Ahh!"

A pale finger had tapped her on the shoulder, startling her, and she swung around to face the smirk of certain snake-like Weasley.

"Alright, Zabini?" he sneered.

She took in a shaky breath, not quite gathering as much air as she would have liked, and nodded. "Law," she said and was glad not to detect a quiver in her voice. "Could you do me a favour? I wish to talk to Draco. Do you think it possible that you could fetch him for me?"

"Perhaps," he said, his smirk widening, "if you tell me why you wish to see him."

_Nosey git! I wish to see him so he can fix my uncontrollable hair!_

"I wish to grant him a good morning," she said and couldn't quite keep the bite from her voice.

"I'll tell him for you," he said callously, "now, if that's all…"

"I just…want to talk to him, is all, Law," she said. "You know how it is, new school, new faces. I just want to see a familiar one."

"Aw," he said and his tone was mocking, "are you finding it hard here?"

She was, especially at this current moment. Her fingers clenched and unclenched. She didn't know why Weasley was being so difficult, or why he seemed to have taken quite a disliking towards her. Perhaps it was payback for being a bit cheeky with him the night before but Hermione felt that it didn't quite merit this.

"No," she said, and gave a short laugh. She knew better than to reveal any weakness to him.

"Why do you want to see Draco, so?" He was very close, in her face and she very much wanted to hex him.

"What's the problem here, Weasley?" A cold voice echoed down the stairs and all Hermione could make out was a dark shadow, although she knew who it was.

So did Law. "Tom!"

He walked down the stairs to stand beside Law, and looked her up and down. She was terribly aware of her wet hair and her plain black robe and bare legs. His eyes whispered strange things to her and she couldn't quite stand to look at him, her eyes now firmly glued on Law again.

"I wanted to see Draco," she offered, "and Law was just about to get him for me."

Law's eyes narrowed in a way Ron's never would have, but he granted her request at long last, clambering up the stairs.

This left Hermione and Tom alone.

"He's difficult," she said, but good-naturedly.

He smirked. "Most people are," he countered.

"But not everybody," she said and finally looked at him. He met her eyes with a smile, one she had never seen or imagined on him.

"Are you?" His tone was both amused and serious.

She opened her mouth to answer, she wasn't sure what, but, at that instant,

Malfoy came down the stairs. His hair was perfect as always, but the rest of him looked like he'd just gotten out from bed.

"Zabini," he greeted.

Hermione put immense effort into forcing her eyes from Tom and failed. "Malfoy," she said, but she and Tom were still looking at each other.

"Is there a problem?" Hermione couldn't see Draco, but she was pretty sure he'd just risen an eyebrow.

"No," she said and finally looked away from Tom to meet Malfoy's grey questioning eyes. She could still feel Tom's eyes on her. "Care to go for a quick walk?"

"Of course, Hermione."

"Meet you back here in ten minutes?"

"Yes. See you then."

Hermione couldn't quite risk a look at Tom as she turned to leave, but she thought he might have been frowning.

* * *

She tried her best to keep her hair tame before seeing Malfoy and, when they met the ten minutes later, she was fully dressed and fresh, and her hair was getting out of control.

"Malfoy," she said desperately, "look at my hair!"

Thank Merlin the common room was empty, because the jerk started laughing at her. Pointing and…giggling. She wanted to slap him, but what if anybody saw? All she could do was glare and wait for him to subside.

He did, eventually, then took out his wand and performed the spell he used on his own hair every morning to make it slick and easy to manage.

"C'mon then," he said, laughter still lingering in his eyes, "we still have to go for that walk, otherwise Tom will be suspicious."

They left the common room and walked together. It was slightly awkward on Hermione's part but Draco seemed completely at ease. She was also very aware of people staring at them.

"Here, you can let me off here," she said. "I'm going to go to the library before classes. Just to familiarize myself with it."

Draco smirked. "Going to be a know-it-all here as well then?"

"Of course," she replied stonily, and left him to enter the comfort of her books.

He watched her go, shaking his head and laughing. Even fifty years into the past, she was still the exact same. He found the thought to be amusing, not as annoying as he would have thought.

* * *

Draco returned to the Common room to find three people waiting for him. Ash was by the fire, and her eyes were glittering strangely from the flame. Law was on the edge on a chair, looking bored. Tom looked completely at ease, sprawled out on the couch made to seat three.

"Where's Hermione?" Ash asked.

"At the library," he replied, but he couldn't help but feel he was being questioned. "Not an uncommon hang-out for her."

"She resides there often?" Tom's face was hidden by the darkness.

"Yes, too often."

"Is there something going on between you and her?" Weasley asked out frank.

"Why do you want to know?" Draco asked, and he knew he was hiding his discomfort well.

"Curiosity." A glint of teeth from Tom's direction.

"Why so curious?" Draco questioned to Tom. It was a well-known Slytherin tactic, keep asking 'innocent' questions until the other gave up.

Hermione chose that time to enter the Common Room. She must have only stayed in the library for ten minutes, and yet her arms were full of books.

"Law?" Tom said. "Why don't you help Hermione with her books?"

Law couldn't hide his scowl but did as he was told. Hermione offered Tom her gratitude in a smile, a smile, Draco noticed, Tom returned.

Ash followed after Hermione into the girls' bedroom.

"There's something about her," Tom said to Draco in confidence, black eyes glinting with life. "I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about Hermione Zabini."

Tom stood up to leave but, just before exiting the Common Room, he looked over his shoulder at Draco and said, "I don't know what it is yet, but _I'm going to find out_."

Draco couldn't quite hide the shudder that crept up his back at those words. Tom was suspicious of Hermione and interested in her, which meant that Hermione was in trouble.

* * *

_Just about five pages. Sorry it's so short, but I'm starting write the other chapter now so it should be up soon! What do you think so far?_

_I live for reviews. Let me live:)_


	10. The Difficulty II

_The first bit of Tom/Hermione action...enjoy! _

* * *

Transfiguration was her first class. 

Transfiguration. She loved Transfiguration. It made sense to her. All it took was a bit of willpower and the wand skill she easily possessed and she found she could do many of the complex transfigurations that even McGonagall found impressive.

But why she particularly loved transfiguration today was because Hermione was eager to learn from Dumbledore. Dumbledore would be an amazing teacher, and she had always admired the man. Being a student in his class was Hermione's idea of honour. He offered her a special smile as he entered the classroom and she accepted it eagerly, titling forward slightly on her desk.

Dumbledore did not disappoint. Immediately the whole class was silent. Dumbledore's fluid movements and gentle words held them all transfixed and Hermione felt she couldn't quite breathe properly. He held a quality McGonagall never had.

Dumbledore wasn't one to skip the hard stuff. Immediately he wanted them to transfigure hard, complicated objects. Hermione felt a sort of frenzy build inside her to impress Dumbledore.

By the end of the class, only two students had mastered all of the transfigurations.

Hermione was one.

Tom was another.

Draco sat frustrated beside her.

Tom's eyes flared with something that made Hermione tingle as Dumbledore praised them both.

* * *

Classes continued in what she felt was the longest day she'd ever suffered through and Hermione found many of the lessons had not changed greatly. The only thing that really bothered Hermione was the hostility she was receiving from all the other houses. That, and the fact that Draco and Tom always seemed to be in her eyesight. 

It bothered her, because it meant she could never relax.

* * *

After classes had finished, Hermione ran to the library. 

She needed to get away from them both. They were in every one of her classes, apart from Arithmancy, which she didn't have on Mondays but was greatly looking forward to it, and she felt she couldn't take much more. Every minute of the day her skin had crawled. Malfoy's expression had changed today, with something new like wariness in his face. Tom's eyes seemed to grow darker every time he looked at her. Every class she had excelled and every class she had never beaten or been beaten by Tom. Malfoy had sat beside her every class, and his movements were jerky and frustrated. He was used to be second best to Hermione, she presumed, but not third best.

Ash seemed to have warmed to Hermione. She seemed a little warmer, any way. Her smile was not as much of a smirk anymore. She chatted to Hermione and, although both girls were hyper-aware of all their words, a weakfriendship was being established.

Sally, on the other hand, annoyed Hermione that day. She seemed a little moody, constantly blowing hot and cold. She was awfully quiet, when she wanted to be, and normally followed Ash's rule without question. She also seemed completely obsessed with her looks and infatuated with herself.

Law Weasley was not in many of Hermione's classes, other than Potions and Arithmancy. She wondered whether he was smart and, if not, why he would pick Arithmancy when it was, of course, known for its high level of difficulty.

She sank into a cushy chair and finally felt her muscles unclench. Her neck ached and she rubbed at it tiredly. She wasn't even in the mood to read and, half-heartedly, threw a random book in front of her, put her head in her hand, and let herself daydream. Her tired mind needed a break.

Five minutes later, she realised she'd actually drifted off and, opening her eyes with a shock, realised somebody was leaning over her. She jerked back, they were much too close, and gasped loudly.

"Relax." Not a request, an order.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" she whispered loudly.

Tom smirked. "I know."

"How long have you been there?" She tried to keep her voice level.

"Not too long." He was still smirking.

He was very close, bending over the table to be face level. She realised suddenly that this was the first time she'd ever been alone with him. The realisation made her stomach flop and she felt sick. She was afraid of him, because there was something inhumane and _weird_ in those dark eyes.

The whole library was quiet, and she felt like she was on the edge of the world, with only him to grip on to. The isolation of this sensation was not pleasant, but Hermione knew she couldn't just run from him, no matter what her instincts shrieked at her.

And he was _so_ good looking. His hair was a shock of darkness, tossed but in a neat sort of way. His face was a sculptor's dream, but his features were touched by coldness and chiselled in ice. His skin was white, pale to the point of ridiculous, and completely and utterly clear of any faults apart from one nearly invisible small scar on his cheek. His eyebrows were thick and arched and raised slightly. His nose was thin and narrow. His lips were straight and thin yet curled up slightly at the ends naturally. He towered over her, even when she was standing up. His eyes were the eyes of a shadow's, and endless, full of light and space and thought.

She couldn't take her eyes off him.

What was unusual was that he seemed to be having the same dilemma. His eyes seemed to drain the life from her, sucking in every one of her features. She couldn't move, petrified yet again by him just like when she'd been in second year. She wondered, illogically, if he really was a Basilisk in disguise. What would she do if a snake's forked tongue left those lips now? What would she be able to do? She'd never felt so defenceless in her life, stripped of all her power and left aquivering twelve year old girl.

"There's no need to be afraid of me, Hermione," he whispered to her. His voice was the voice of nightmares, the voice that tries to draw you into the darkness in your dreams, the voice that wants to steal your soul or do something unknowably dreadful. She was afraid and his words were not reassuring.

He reached out and gripped her wrist lightly. The touch threw her and she felt something surge through her, rendering her dumb and stupid. She stared at his hand supporting her now limp wrist.

"You're shaking," he told her in the same hushed voice, bringing her eyes back onto his face. "Why are you shaking?"

"I'm not," she said in a steady voice, surprising even herself by her words.

"You're not what?"

"I'm not afraid and I'm not shaking," she said, her eyes still glued on him. "I'm just cold."

He seemed to take an age to react to her reply and, when he did, she could tell he was amused.

"You're difficult," he finally said.

"Most people are," she replied, quoting him from their tense conversation that morning.

"But not everybody." His smirk was growing by the minute, as he repeated her words, her philosophy of the day.

"Are you?" She returned. His question that he'd asked her, the one she'd been saved from answering by Malfoy this morning, the one he'd asked with both amusement and seriousness. His face was so close to hers, him leaning on the table for support, her still seated, gripping the side of the chair with one hand, the other still hanging in his.

"Yes," he said and there was no amusement in his tone anymore. He looked at her one last time, before he leaned in and kissed her.

* * *

_Wasn't that a quick update? C'mon, for me! It was like two days!_

_I want to get far enough in this so i don't feel it's possible to change everything when the sixth book comes out! What are we writers going to do? I don't think it will effect this story but it will if, for example, Dumbledore dies or something. Because he's died in mine already. See? What are all you writers planning to do?_

_Hopefully the next update's going to be out soon! But I'm going to be working every day from now on, so be patient with me!_


	11. The Acceptance

For just one moment, everything was gone.

She forgot everybody. She lost her complete identity. For that brief amount of time, she was nothing but a being capable of sensation and feeling. She was no longer human, and there was no longer thought. Her existence was nothing but his lips, her eyes closed and so she was blind to everything. She forgot all her morals, all her beliefs, and all about her mission. She forgot everything, except the cool lips that made her melt with their lack of temperature and the fact that she herself was on fire, consumed in flames fuelled by something unknown. She didn't care to understand, she didn't care about anything.

It was only one moment, half a minute or less, but it absolutely terrified Hermione.

The realisation of what she was doing came to her in a flashing, fantastic beacon of light. Her peace vanished into thin air, and a deep sense of dread enveloped her. Before she could even think, she was pushing him off her, shoving him _hard _and standing up herself from her chair. She couldn't get in a proper breath and her face was boiling, as was her blood. An unexplainable rage soared up her chest, and she desperately wanted to hit him, only the look in his eyes stopped her in her tracks.

"What the-how could you- why?" she stuttered, backing away from him. His eyes were like two cubes of ice, boring into hers.

"Why did I _what_?" he muttered in a low voice, and he sounded almost as angry as she was.

"Why did you kiss me?" she cried, and her voice sounded terrible against the cool quietness of the rest of the library.

"Because I felt like it," he said, and the ice flashed in the light. He was looking at her lips now. "Because whatever I want, I get. You'll learn that soon enough, _Zabini_."

But she wasn't Zabini! The use of her fake second name startled her. She wasn't who he thought she was. She wasn't who he wanted to kiss. But how could she have-? No, she would have to think about that later. Her head was too muddled up to be able to articulate any sensible thought or logic. She still couldn't breath. His eyes on her lips were making them sting, and she needed suddenly to get away from him.

He was in her way though. Behind her, all there stood was bookcases. The narrow clearing of bookcases was right behind him. She wanted to shove by him but she realised she was too scared, and that he was not going to let her. His mood was completely different than before, dangerous, and she didn't really know what to do.

"Leave me go." Her voice was harsher and stronger than she felt.

"No."

"Leave me go." A plea this time. She let herself down but she couldn't help it. She felt nowhere near strong now, and not prepared to take on Tom at all.

"Why? What's wrong?" There was a hint of mocking in his low voice, and no concern.

"Leave me go now." He was right in her way. Dare she risk getting closer to him again, in order to get out?

Desperation clawed at her like it was trying to scramble from a wet open grave. She couldn't think, but she had too.

"What's going on?" A new voice entered their world.

For one beautiful moment, Hermione thought it was Malfoy coming to save her.

Then, once she'd seen _him_, she thought that it was a miracle and Ron was here.

Lastly, stupidly, she realised it was only Law and he was of no advantage to her.

Or maybe he was…

Tom turned to face Law and said, "Nothing, Law, why don't you run along off a cliff or something?"

With those eyes averted from her, she suddenly realised this was her chance of escaping. With a speed she'd never experienced before and a great wave of adrenaline, she half-leaped past Tom, banged Law out of the way (Ouch!") and bolted from the library, finally breathing at last, and into the hallway. She heard Tom's shout behind her to Law, "Stop her!", but nobody could compete with her at this rate, and she didn't stop running until she was safe inside Dumbledore's office and clutching a painful stitch on her side.

"Miss Zabini," Dumbledore smiled gently, "what a pleasant surprise." He took in her flushed cheeks, her messy tousled hair and frantic eyes and said, "A matter of urgency, perhaps?"

"Professor," she gasped. "Tell me everything you know about Tom Riddle."

"Ahhh," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "I'd better out the kettle on."

"The first time I met Tom, I thought he was a normal boy. Sorted into Slytherin, my opinion of him did not change for I feel the sorting tells us very little about who we, as people, really are. However, another student started that year, Hagrid – have you met? I should really introduce you – and I was rather fond of him. However, he was the first to bring it to my attention that Tom was quite an unhappy boy. Hagrid was not liked by Tom, and subtly bullied. Hagrid is made of stronger stuff than to let words get under his skin, but I began to see others – Muggleborns or half bloods, mainly – react to Tom's words. I met with the boy to have a chat about this sort of behaviour and he, at eleven years old, was as calm and mature as a man triple his age, full of curt manners and cold civility. There was really little I could say to the boy. I inquired then about a meeting with his parents and was told, in calm callous tones, that they were both dead, his mother after committing suicide when Tom was only a baby, his father dead to him after abandoning him and his mother just when they'd needed him most and, in Tom's opinion, sentencing his mother to her despair and death."

Hermione felt a chill up her spine.

"It was only then, when I looked into his eyes, that I saw something different and dark in Tom. He was only a child, after all."

She nodded, swallowing down a lump that had formed in her throat. The blood was still rushing in her ears.

"It doesn't do well for a child not to grow up without any sort of love. Tom's childhood consisted of orphanages and people who never really cared for him. Forgive me for saying this, but the people in those orphanages are not doing their jobs correctly. They didn't understand him, punishing him for any unexplained outburst of magic or any abnormal behaviour. I wonder, perhaps, if I'd reached Tom a little sooner, he would be now more childlike. I hate to think of a child not getting to enjoy the happiest, most carefree, time of their life. It saddens me to think of it."

The story was so much like Harry's. Tom's story. It wasn't fair. No boy should have to grow up with that. But look at Harry, he wasn't bad, he wasn't evil. But then, neither is Tom now. Is he?

"My suspicions grew. There was an unfortunate incident when the Chamber of Secrets –Oh good, you recognise the name, I was afraid I'd have to explain it all - yes, it was nearly opened. Hagrid was blamed but I neither feel nor believe that a kind-hearted boy such as Hagrid would be capable of such an act. I've never been able to prove Tom responsible nor do I wish to, but I do have my suspicious. I've been keeping an eye on him ever since."

"There's something dark inside Tom Riddle, Miss Zabini. Something strange and powerful. I…I do not know how to prepare for it." Hermione looked up into Dumbledore's grave face and was startled by the brief expression of fear there. "Miss Zabini, I know better than to pry into the future, I know what's to be done is to be done, but something very bad happens, doesn't it? Something concerning Mr Riddle? Things must be very terrible for you to come all the way back here, Miss Zabini, and that worries me a great deal."

She looked into his face. He looked so old, even now. Something very bad does happen, she thought, you die. Dumbledore was dead. And, as the tears dropped on to her face and those thin frail arms wrapped themselves around her to comfort her, she finally realised it. Dumbledore was dead. He was alive now but, in her real time, all hope was lost, and he was really dead.

She left Dumbledore's office with the weight of the world on her shoulders, to find Malfoy waiting for her.

"What happened to you?" he asked in an unconcerned tone as she walked to meet him, "I've been looking for you."

"We need to talk," she said, "somewhere private. Outside. Let's go for a walk outside."

He nodded his reluctant consent and they walked side by side in silence. She wasn't crying but she'd never felt so troubled in her life. He kept glancing at her as they walked along but she was in her own world and did not notice.

The air was clear and cold, the sky was covered in a blanket of stars with no moon and only a whiff of cloud, and silence surrounded them. They walked for most of a half hour before he finally reached a thick tree by the lake and sat down. She paused for a minute that sat on the opposite side on the tree trunk, so their backs were to the trunk and so to each other, and they weren't looking at each other, he looking at the rippling lake, she at the twinkling lights of Hogwarts castle.

"So, what happened?"

She took in a breath. "It's over, Malfoy."

"What?" His tone was so openly surprised that she flinched.

"It's over, Malfoy," she told him again; relieved that she didn't have to look at him and there was no way he could look at her. "I thought I was cut out for this, I thought I could do this. But I can't. I'm not able to do this. I can't…I'm not strong enough."

"What's after bringing this on?" His voice was not angry or full of acquisitions, he was merely inquiring.

"I forgot," she said honestly.

"Excuse me?"

"I forgot who he was. I forgot!" The anger rose in her chest again, the anger that had always been directed at herself. "I forgot that he was Voldemort, Malfoy. He kissed me and, for that minute, I forgot that he's the murderer that killed Harry's parents, and tried to kill mine! He's the one person that is responsible for the pain of the Wizarding World. All those people's deaths and suffering and misery, and I just forgot!"

"He kissed you?" Malfoy's voice was tight.

"Yes, in the library. Merlin, Malfoy, I _enjoyed_ it! I think I even may have kissed him back! He was looking at me with those dark eyes and those pretty lips, and I _wanted_ him to kiss me! I should have run from him then, but I didn't. I didn't want to. I actually fancy him, Malfoy!" She'd never felt so ashamed of herself or so disgusted. "What would Ron say? How could Harry ever forgive me? How would Ginny ever be able to look me in the eye? How would my parents ever be able to understand?"

She was thankful that he wasn't looking at her because tears were streaming down her face. She wasn't even aware of his presence, really, more talking to herself.

"He has power over me. I'm too weak. I'm too weak to ever compete against Voldemort! I should have known that! But I was foolish and stupid and too proud, and thought _I_ could really change things! Nothing ever changes, nothing's ever easy, and I'm too weak and silly to do anything of any real importance. I've completely lost control of the situation, Malfoy, and I can't do this! I can't do it alone! I can't do this alone! I just can't!"

There was silence for his side of the tree.

"Malfoy?"

And then a hand was on top of hers. She stared at it, barely believing her eyes. All she could see of him was the little bit of his arm and his pale white hand, resting over hers, squeezing slightly, a gesture of comfort.

"You're not alone," he told her quietly.

* * *

_Ooooh, I liked this chapter. Thanks to anyone who pointed out the mistakes, and I changed them and used a line by Ptrst. I actually really tried to proof read this one; I'm sorry. I think I'm going to have to get myself a beta:( Honestly, I don't even know what's going to happen until I read over it again and realise I'm after writing another chapter and look! This wasn't what I thought was going to happen in this chapter at all! Oh well! I really like it though, this chapter and the last chapter have been my two favourite's so far, and I think this story is really coming far!_

Thanks to:

**Ardent Entity:** You're a couple of chapters behind I think, but hopefully you'll catch up with us soon. Thank you, as always, for your funny and truthful reviews, and I really appreciate and respect your opinion, and I'm delighted your reading this story! What I wanted to ask you, is how do you feel about Shadows of Light being finsihed? Are you sad? you've been writing that story for so long! You were writing that when I was writing Sudden Changes, I think!

**Lisi:** Thanks for your reviews! Sorry I'm only continuing Deal With The Devil now, but hopefully, when i;ve finsihed that, you''ll still read this one (which I personally think is better.)

**El Ci Aech Johnson:** Glad the pairings to your taste! i actually didn't know any of them existed but, after a bit of research, I've realised there's actually a couple of good ones out there! thanks for the review!

**Unspeakable May:** Thanks as always! I plan to write this story a lot more than my others, basically because I think it's the best at the moment.

**Annavignola:** I thoiught that chapter was good too! What did you think of this one? And thanks!

**Roses4u:** There's Malfoy! Thanks for the review!#

**Sakuya Kaleido:** I did update pretty quickly, and hope you're still reading! Thanks!

**Seghen:** We're reviewing each others works, and it's really helpful for both of us. I like it. Keep up the good work and keep updating Seeing What Should not be Seen. Oh, and if anybody's reading this, I urge you to read Seghen's story. It's one of those odd ones with an OC that's actually GOOD and not annoying to read. I am a fan.

**Alenor:** Hope you have a good time, and I hope you updated before you came back! Tell me all about it, if you're still reading! I'd love to be going away! Sorry about the cliffie in the last chapter.

**S:** Now you know! Hehe! thanks!

**Hoochrules:** Hermione is weak at the moment, I know, but she'll find her strength! She isn't going to give in easy at all. Actually, that's what the next chapters all about.

**The Cardboard Moon:** I was actually going to do that (Malfoy walking in) but then I realised that, in real life, people don't just walk around and wait to be summoned, so I didn't. Law came in instead though! So...um..can I have that gallon and 12 sickles then? taht;d be cool! Thanks for the review!

**PinkTribeChick:** You're always reviewing, aren't you? I LOVE people like you! Keep it up! And thank, thank, thank you!

**Ptrst:** You've been awfully quiet lately? I thought you may have forgotten me! How are you? And I won't...but she's gonna find it a challenge not to!

**Vedgirl1201**: It's strange, how death threats can make a person smile so much...and yet it does! Cheers!

**sadsoulz:** your review kind of confused me, but thanks!

**Anichan:** Hehe, thanks for the review, and I was pretty quick for, you know, me.

**CareBearErin:** Tom's mysterious to me! i know nothing about him, at all! I'm not sure how I can even write him, I don't think I've ever read a full fic about him! Thank you!

**Illyria-Light:** THANK YOU AS ALWAYS! I love the people who stick with you, even through your bad-drabbles phrase and your lack of updates phrase! So thank you, and I hope you know how much I do appreciate it!

**I just realised my thanks were not up to date at all! I';m sorry I don't do them at every chapter - it really does take the longest of times - but I do hope you all know how chuffed I am when I get them beautiful review alerts! **

**And don't forget to review for this chapter either, and tell me what you think!**

**Hermione will get her strength back; she just needs to accept things and get a little support off Draco! Watch her in the next chapter! **


	12. The Full Story

I'm not alone… 

Malfoy's hand left hers, and hers felt cold after his touch.

Last time, his hand had been on hers, he'd pulled away and reverted back into that one-dimensional character she'd witnessed at Hogwarts. She wouldn't let that happen again. She knew there had be something happening with him, she knew he had be unhappy too. Why else would he comfort her? He had to be feeling the loneliness, the uncertainty, the horrible feeling of knowing you do not belong just as she did. What had he seen at that Death Eater's meeting, anyway? And why had he wanted to see her that night?

"You're not alone either, Malfoy." She couldn't see his response to this; her eyes were still set on Hogwarts and his on the shimmering water in front of him.

Silence hung in the air for nearly four minutes before she spoke again.

"You're not alone, Malfoy. We have to stick together. Please…tell me what's going on with you. What happened at that Death Eater's meeting? I need to know."

His voice was different, uncomfortable and dry but he spoke evenly. "I was branded, straight away for the first few minutes of it. I didn't want to be. I looked desperately into the Dark Lord's eyes, and almost preyed he'd just read my mind and kill me on the spot. How could he not know? I have no loyalty towards him! Why did he brand me so soon? Normally…a test must be carried out. Normally, he looks into your eyes and your mind is laid bare for him to see all. Maybe he thought it funny, branding me when it was the last thing I wanted to be done. I don't know. But then…then the real excitement began. The Dark Lord was smiling too widely and there was such an air of excitement…we didn't know what was going to happen, but we waited…until the Dark Lord revealed him. Albus Dumbledore, locked in a cage that drained him of all magical powers, locked in a cage, like an animal. How did he get Dumbledore? Simple, he used the man's love for Potter…told him he had Potter kidnapped…Snape backed him up, told him the boy had been missing for over three hours now…Dumbledore's loyalty and love, the two things that killed him."

It was painful for Hermione to hear but she knew she had to hear it. She's asked for it, after all. She wished Draco was holding her hand again, and she wished his voice wasn't so tight and in control.

"The Dark Lord started toying with him…laughing at him, sneering and showing no fear at all. Dumbledore watched him with a sad, tired face and did nothing. He knew the end was coming. I kept waiting for him to do something, use some brilliant magic or I thought maybe the Order were going to burst in. But nothing…Snape had betrayed him, he was surrounded by Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord was standing over him about to kill him."

"Then…the Dark Lord turned to me and asked me did I want to say anything to my old Headmaster. I told him I certainly didn't. Those eyes on me…And then Dumbledore says to me, "It's going to be alright, Draco. You'll do your best." In front of the master! Luckily, he only found it amusing and did not punish me. I stepped back and preceded to watch. By the end, Dumbledore was nothing but pieces…Dumbledore showed no fear, but he showed his pain. He cried out and all of us sneered. It was a long time before the Dark Lord finally delivered the final blow. There was almost an anti climax…one second Dumbledore was alive, the next dead, and the world seemed to darken. Everybody was silent, even the Dark Lord, who seemed almost amazed that the only one he had ever feared was finally defeated."

"I…I didn't want that. I didn't want to do that for the rest of my life. There was nothing satisfying or good about Dumbledore's death. He was an old man, and all there was, was blood. I…" There was a pause and his voice was more collected when he spoke again. "He turned and his eyes were redder. We could all feel the power radiating off him. He stood, with his arms outstretched, for some time and we all watched. I was memorised. Then he told us that Dumbledore's protection was gone and Hogwarts was free for us to take. "Potter's next," he told us, and then nothing would be able to stop him…"

"Except us," she imputed. "He hadn't depended on us."

"Hadn't he?" Draco said and there was something significant in his voice. She couldn't think of anything to reply and, after a minute, he continued on with his story. "Once we all reached Hogwarts, I realised I only had one chance. There was no turning back. I was branded as a Death Eater, but I didn't have to be one….I ran, ran to you. You know the rest of the story. The Dark Lord let me run. He could have caught me, but he let me go…I suppose that's his idea of amusement. I can only imagine what might have happened had he gotten to me before you did."

"Malfoy…" She knew he'd left out a lot. All the fear and disgust and sickness he'd felt. She'd seen him in that hallway. He'd been terrified and near to fainting, and he had looked like he'd been sick. She knew then that he'd never seen a person die before, it had been his first. And hopefully his last…

"We've both sacrificed too much," she said now in a totally calm tone of voice, "for us to be messing this up. From now on, we have to behave properly. We can't be enemies any longer, although I don't really think of you like that anymore. We must make a pact, we have to stick together and help each other through this. We have to be successful in this mission."

"You have to stop kissing Tom." There was a tint of laughter in his voice again and the serious air between them came to an end.

She stood up and came to his side of the tree, where he was also rising. They faced each other and shook hands formally. "Neither of us are alone," she said with a small smile, "not anymore." And, for some reason, they both knew neither of them were referring exclusively to their mission.

* * *

_Yes, it's a short chapter, but it's necessary. There were some hints dropped in this chapter about what's going to happen…Just wanted to get the air completely clear between Draco and Hermione before proceeding. Dunno what's going to happen in the next chapter, but there's going to be a Tom/Hermione face off, feature a little plot development concerning Law, and Draco's going to be busy with other things (i.e. Ash!)_

_See you soon! But not too soon! Going away this week…_

_What do you think so far? I hope you like! Aren't I good with my updates?_

**Deal with the Devil's **last chapter will up soon…I'm leaving **Doomed **on hold until after the sixth book for a while, unless inspiration particularly hits me. This story will probably stay an AU, but I don't I'd have to change much anyway! How many Tom/Hermione/Draco moments can there be? **VOL **should be updated soon…But I'm just having troubles with ideas for it at the moment. Help?Also been revising a few of my stories (One-shots at the moment) and thanks are added. Nothing major has been added so you don't have to go read 'em again but know that, if you reviewed one before, you've been thanked personally!

Thanks to:

**FakestDummyever **– Yes, there will be! In the next chapter, and the ones after that. Thanks!

**Laxgoalie** – Thanks!

**KathrynValmont – **Thanks for reviewing, but you should be it more often! We writers love reviews! A kiss, eh? Not for a while, I say… Tom/Hermione action should be popping up in the next few chapters, but Hermione and Draco will take a little longer.

**Unspeakable Mae** – Sorry there wasn't any Tom in this chapter, but he'll feature strongly in the next.

**Kippie** – I dunno which is my fav. I've never written Tom, so he's the newest, where as I've written a lot of Draco and Hermione stories…but they never get old either. It's a toughie!

**Hplucky** – Thanks you, as always!

**Ardent Entity** – Yeah, sorry about the bluntness, but I really did love your story, and, if a sequel is definite, it's brilliant! If not…you can see where I'm coming from! Of course I'll read it! I changed them mistakes you pointed out! I really do try proof read, I'm not too bad but when I write aq chapter I'm mad to get it up and see what people think of it! Aren't you? Don't you find having a beta annoying? Ha ha! I tried being a beta before…I was crap!

**Firesorceress** – There ya go! It's a start, right?

**CareBareErin **– And he needs hers too!

**Maidenauroa** – Thanks for pointing that out, and mistake has been corrected. Thanks for the cyber cookies!

**Vedgirl1202** – Thanks, girl!

**Ptrst **– Yeah, I didn't like that line too. I debated with it. "Guy" isn't a good word. But then I just went, had dinner, and forgot about it, uploading it instead. I used your line; so thank you! Any more? And he only tried kill her parents…they're alive. I thought it'd be too sad if I killed 'em off….plus, then she'd never be able to even half-way feel for Tom, I feel! Plus, that's what I have done in VOL so I thought I'd mix things around. She's on her way to regaining….and regaining Draco's in the mean time.

- Thanks!

**Karla Marie** – I hope I've explained Draco's intentions a little further, but yes, it's a little far fetched! Ah well! Fanfiction, and all! The idea of Draco/Hermione/Tom is far fetched anyway! Yeah, Hermione's quite an angry person so she might do something like that…but I could see her being very upset too….

**Lisi **– Thank you as always!

**Iklepsis** – Thank you! I appreciate every review, I really do!

**Illyria-Light** – Cheers, girl!

**Me **– Hehe, thanks!


	13. The Game

She walked beside Draco. He was as quiet as her. Her head was clearer now and something seemed to happen as she walked through the slightly damp grass to enter Hogwarts castle. Her feelings ebbed away until one resolution stood clear. How dare Tom Riddle! How dare he make her feel like that? How dare he stand in her way and not allow her to leave, whenever she pleased. He may be a lord in her real time, but here he was just a teenage boy, and he had as much right to kiss her as Malfoy did!

_Kissing Malfoy…_

She shook her head and entered the Common Room. Tom was sitting there, with Ash. They both looked up as Draco and Hermione entered. She looked defiantly back into Tom's staring face.

"Where were you?" Ash asked, and there was a sound of annoyance in her voice. "We were waiting."

"Why? I can tell you now _we're_ able to handle ourselves." Hermione shocked them all with her strong tone, and shocked herself with her emphasis on _we're_, as if Malfoy and her were anyway connected.

"Don't forget you're new though." Tom's voice was harmless but Hermione wondered whether she should consider that a light threat.

"We won't," she said shortly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Malfoy was slightly staring at her.

"Did you get around okay? Where did you go?" Ash insisted.

"Are you taking a questionnaire? Should I go get my quill?" She gave a slight laugh, as if to show they shouldn't take her too seriously. "We went around by the lake, if you must know."

"How _romantic_." She wondered why Tom would say this. How on earth could it affect him?

"Yes, very," Malfoy said in an off hand manner.

"I'm going to bed. Ash?"

"In a minute. Hermione."

Hermione left them, and Draco followed after a minute to his room.

"What d'you think?" Ash said to Tom, once the two students were sure the other two were gone.

Tom didn't reply, deep in thought.

"She has attitude," Ash continued.

"I like it," he replied shortly. "I like her."

Ash's face was so openly displeased that he laughed out loud at her and asked, "You don't?"

"She's plain, Tom. She's not pretty, she's defensive about everything, and I'm pretty sure I heard her sniffling and crying last night. Also, she's too clever for her own good. She's only been here a day and she's already been studying in the library more hours than I've been in there all year."

He wasn't listening to her and was smiling faintly.

Ash watched him for a moment, threw up her hands in frustration, and went to bed, leaving him to his absorbing thoughts. He would sit like that for a very long time, still smiling gently, before going to bed.

* * *

Hermione woke with a new sense of determination. She couldn't let Tom push her around. She'd show him… She got out of bed extra early and made an effort on her appearance. The cold water against her face felt more refreshing than usual and, once she'd fixed her hair, without Malfoy's aid, she looked at herself for a very long time, and seemed to find solace there. She was still Hermione Granger…She hadn't changed…Tom's mouth hadn't changed a thing…

But it had. There was no doubt about it. She was more prepared, and just a little bit more excited.

She went to the breakfast table on her own. Ash was still in bed, and Sally, vain but plain Sally, would spend another hour or so in the shower. She didn't need them. She could deal with this on her own.

Law was there, a book propped against his lap. His hand was supporting his head, and he looked as bored with the book as Ron would have done. They were the only two at the table except for three first years who were "unworthy" of attention from her. She considered briefly returning to her bedroom but, at that second, Law looked up at her and, moving liquidly, she sat down opposite to him, maintaining eye contact.

"Hello Law."

"Hermione," he returned, one eyebrow arching slightly. "How're you this morning? Tired?"

"Why would I be tired?" she replied.

"Well, after kissing Tom, and all that _running, _and then staying out so late with Draco last night, I imagine you're quite in need of some rest and relaxation."

"I am perfectly fine, Law." She leaned forward, towards him. "But how're you? All that _sucking up_ to Tom must really exhaust one after a while."

Law's eyebrow arched with more vigour and he breathed, "Touché."

They exchanged an identical smile.

Hermione was hit with an idea. "Law, would you like a game of chess?"

He smirked and, with a swish of his wand and a whispered "Accio Chess set", the two first years' game was cleared and the chess set flew to the space between Hermione and Law and began to set itself up. The first years' knew better than to protest and if they mourned their loss, they did so silently.

"I hope you know I'm an extremely able chess player. My family have always had a natural talent at it," he told her.

I know, she thought with a pang, but her face was impassive and unimpressed.

"Are you ready?" he prompted.

After years of being trashed by Ron and learning from him and researching all those moves and the history of chess and, finally, in sixth year, beating Ron, Hermione was, without a doubt, ready for Law.

After an hour, she realised that she was no nearer to winning than he was. They seemed to be caught in a sort of trap. The game was stuck; she had no way of defeating him and he couldn't get through her defences. Blue eyes met brown, but both were as stubborn as each other.

"What are you guys doing?" It was nobody but Sally. Hermione didn't acknowledge her and Law barely glanced at her when he told her that they were in the middle of a game of chess.

"Can I play?" Hermione looked up at Sally to see if Sally was joking. She wasn't; instead she was looking eagerly at Law, desperate to be included, to be seen. Law didn't see Sally, but threw an amused, sardonic expression Hermione's way, one that even Sally could not miss.

"Who's winning?" Ash had obviously followed Sally and was just a little quicker on the uptake.

"Me," Hermione lied. Law didn't protest but his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration as he moved his pawn forward; a useless move and one that did nothing to tip the balance.

"They're too absorbed in the game to see anyone else," Sally sniffed. "I'm bored, Ash."

"What're you betting on?" Ash continued, ignoring Sally completely.

"Betting?" Hermione looked up from the board to Ash's golden-looking eyes.

"Betting," she repeated. "You know. Surely you know. No Pureblood plays a game that requires so much effort like chess, without making it worthwhile. Law?"

"We're not betting anything," Law answered, just as Tom arrived. Law glanced in Tom's direction. "Not yet."

Hermione was too busy concentrating on her next move to see Tom's replying grin. Draco was late from bed and didn't see it either. Sally was too busy fixing her hair, gazing into her reflection on the spoon and wondering did she always look so uneven and strange. Ash caught it though; her multi-coloured eyes caught most things.

* * *

The game was put on hold, and Hermione started her classes with the same determination as yesterday. She was as smart as Tom, and she would prove it. She would never dumb herself down, even to save her mission. If it bothered Tom…well, she'd deal with that matter if it ever came up.

The strange thing was, was that he didn't see bothered. If anything, he seemed impressed. His eyes looked at her keenly and he sat near her often, peering over her page, leaning close to her so that they brushed off each other, and agreeing quietly with her ideas. She watched him carefully, wondering what he meant of it. Was she trying to…to charm her? Was that it?

Was it working?

She shook her head, and continued with her work. Dumbledore was full of praise for her. He praised Tom nearly as much, and Hermione saw that whatever worries he possessed for Tom did not effect his treatment to him in the class. She loved Transfiguration.

They shared the class with the Gryffindors and Hermione found it difficult that they could seem so unpleasant. She'd always thought it alright when, for example, the Weasley twins had hissed and booed the Slytherins as they past. Now, though, she realised she'd been terribly ignorant. It was quite unnerving, especially when one couldn't show one sign of weakness.

She could tell it bothered some of the other Slytherins now, particularly the younger ones.

It was only when Dumbledore called for Minerva, that Hermione realised McGonagall was in the class. Hermione looked at her with interest; McGonagall was thin and bony, lanky and ugly. Her face was covered with lank black hair; completely different to the bun she wore in present times. When she saw Hermione's examination, she spat bitterly, "What do you want, Slytherin?"

It shocked Hermione! Had McGonagall always been prejudiced against Slytherins? She had never shown any benefits towards her own house…had she? Now that Hermione thought of it, McGonagall had showed some, granting extra points when punishments would have been a more suitable award for some of the trio's more dangerous adventures and being just a little more severe on the Slytherins.

The thought bothered Hermione. It was strange being in a Zabini's shoes. She could see things just a little more clearly now. It was not a pleasurable realisation and, when she wasn't worrying about Tom or Draco, she frowned about this.

* * *

The day passed slowly and Hermione spent the rest of her free time in the library. She was researching time now, trying to understand it a little better. She was trying to focus more on this time, than getting back to the future but she knew knowing a little more about time would come in handy.

She returned to the Common Room to find all Law Weasley waiting for her, the chessboard laid out carefully in the same positions as they'd been in before. Tom was standing against the wall, looking like he'd been there for years and had become part of the décor. Sally was sitting next to Law. Hermione imagined she'd tried to get as close to him as possible. Ash was sitting on Law's other side, with an excited expression on her face. Draco gave every appearance of calmness but she was beginning to understand him a little better, and she could see slight tension in his shoulders.

"What's going on?" she questioned calmly.

"I thought you'd like to continue our game from this morning," Law said, as if presenting her with a great pleasant surprise.

"With bets added," Ash piped in violently.

Hermione sought out Draco's eyes with hers. Tingles of alarm tickled down her.

"What _bets_?" she asked, swallowing.

She waited for Law to explain but he didn't; Tom did instead. She could hardly take in his words, buts he saw his expression – one a cat might wear, satisfied, after catching his mouse.

* * *

_Sure, it's a bit of a cliché, but I needed to move the relationship along and this was one way to do it. _

_I was wondering if anybody would help me. When Did Tom open the Chamber of secrets? What age was he? In what year? I find difficulty in this! When did Tom kill his father? How does the time frame go, damn it!_

_Would it be a big deal if I messed up the times a little to fix them all into this story?_

_This is an AU now, since HBP, but I'll be adding bits in from it so I suppose Spoilers are still a little necessary. _

_Thanks to: (the thanks are really short and not too perky because I'm sick and tired and in a little bit of a rush so, don't take offence if they're not all "YAY!") _

_**K **– yes, I think there will. It will be in a while though…. Tom/Hermione will be taking up the next couple of chapters. I feel I've done enough concerning D/Hr at the moment. _

_**Lisi **– The next chapter will contain T/Hr. This chapter was more a filler._

_**Kippie** – this didn't really have a lot of anyone in it. Sorry for that. I'm just trying to make it a bit realistic. Thanks for your…three…reviews?_

_**CareBearErin** – You're on to something, aren't you?_

_**SongofRain** – You'll see. :-_

_**Ptrst **– What's the name of your friend? Thanks for the detailed review – detailed reviews are the best!_

_**Illyria-light** – I'm glad you've coped on to this. You will see. I have all the future- part worked out – all the details – that this is only what DRACO thinks. Draco doesn't know anything really, just what he's been told. It's the present bit – Tom/Hermione/Draco and all that that's a little less formed in my head._

_**InfectiouslyDepressing** – I really like your pen name._

_**Unspeakable Mae** – You've been around a long time, haven't you? I definitely know the name a lot._

_**Katie **– Thanks. For my first attempt at tom, I am quite pleased with him too._

_**Poke-the-Sleeping-Dragon** – I did actually mean it to be "leave me go!" but that might be wrong. I say it, anyway, but then I say loads of wrong things! But I like your honest opinions so feel free to leave more._

_**Luthien** – Me likey your reviews too. _

_**Anichan **– Thanks a lot._

_**ArdentEntity **– You have no idea how much your opinion means to me. I guess it's because I've been reading your stuff before you've read mine, or maybe it's because we've been reviewing/responding for so long now, but I always crave your approval and recognise your critics as correct and helpful. Thank you._

_**Gigglymesh** – I know. Sorry. But…she wouldn't be all attitude to Tom immediately. I mean, she knows what he turns out to be. I dunno…If I was in her position I wouldn't be terrified of him, but I would be intimidated. _

_**Seghen –** I reviewed so much of your stuff lately and read so many of your reviews, I honestly don't think I have anything left to say except: Thanks, and keep being you._

_**Alenor **– I did have fun while I was always. Thanks. I'm glad you did to. _

_**.Aurorablu** – Where did you get your name from? It's so unusual but pretty. _

_**SugarnSpice522** – thanks. I'm glad you approve._

I'm sorry if there are loads of typos. I'm sick and my head's banging and somehow unable to type properly. The words seem a little foggy. Make me feel better with some reviews, would you? Please?

So…. what did you all think of the **Half Blood Prince?** I'll tell you what I thought when I'm feeling a bit better in detail!

Any ideas for the Bets? I have one, but I'd prefer something a bit more dramatic. All reviews are taken into account with me and will ensure a faster update!

Long reviews rock! Tell me what's going on with y'all!


	14. The Winner

_Dedicated to all my reviews. No spoilers for HBP, I think, although I might be taking influences from it. Thanks and AN at the end, despite that fact that it's half one in the morning (Finished at twenty to three, and just about to be updated! Yay!)._

* * *

"Are you insane?" Draco roared at her. 

She considered him silently from her couch. He towered over her, red faced and breathing heavily, but she wasn't frightened or even tense.

"Well? Hermione, are you completely mad?"

She didn't answer, turning her face away from him.

"Hermione!"

"Will you stop growling?" she asked him silently. "You'll wake everyone up." They were in the Common Room and it was past midnight. Tom and the others had gone to bed nearly a half hour ago.

"You're just after making a deal with them! Don't you understand Slytherin yet? You have just made a deal…to be under Law's control for a day. Don't you know how serious we Slytherins take these things? Don't you understand that?"

"The thing is, Malfoy, I _do_ understand. I understand perfectly."

He stopped in mid-rant, and stared at her, something coming over his face. "Oh Merlin!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Who you think you are?" He lowered his voice. "You're not Hermione _Zabini_. Remember that."

"Look, think of it logically, Malfoy. Think of all the things I could do if I won, if I had Law under my control. Think of the power I'd have."

"You're changing, Granger," he said. "It's not a good change. I don't know what's going on with you, but Tom obviously has something up his sleeve and you have to be careful."

"Be quiet, Draco," she said in perfect composure. "Tom may have something under his sleeve, but maybe so do I."

He examined her carefully. Her hair was immaculate, dark and tidy. Her eyes were slightly narrowed and watching him as much as he was her. She was wearing a very un-Grangerish expression on her face, one of plotting and logical thinking.

"Jesus, Granger…" he breathed.

"What, Draco, what's the matter with you now?"

"You're changing, do you know that? You're changing, becoming something…something darker. Don't forget who you are, Granger."

He walked away from her then and, after a silent moment on the couch, she went into her bedroom. She could hear Ash's quiet breathing and Sally's little snores. She went to sit at the bedroom dresser, taking out one of Sally's many brushes. Moonlight flooded in from the little window above her and she could see herself clearly. She stared at herself, hearing his words in her head. _You're changing, do you know that? _She did see it, and she could feel it. Something inside her was transforming. Maybe she was just growing up, or maybe she was just getting stronger. Or maybe, now that she was in a different time and a different house and she didn't have to keep up the front of always being the good girl, more of her real self was coming out.

Either way, she was confused.

Confused, but not frightened.

* * *

Her classes passed in a blur. She found the competition between herself and Tom increasing and, although she refused to be unnerved, she found the rest of the evening after classes passing too quickly with an almost insane urge to better him and learn more in the library. She knew why she cared about impressing Tom, it was a vital part of her mission, but she was just a little worried about how much she was willing to do and how much it would take from her. 

The day seemed to have passed in the space of a blink, and she found herself sitting opposite Law Weasley once again, the chessboard spread out in front of them both, glinting dimly in the low lights. The fire offered no heat as always but Hermione found herself adjusting to the chill.

She examined Law as he sat, watching the board carefully, obviously debating his next move. He wasn't as like Ron as she had first thought, after all. His eyes were a little darker and not as magnificent. His skin was more like Ginny's, pale not red and as prune to blazing blushes. His nose was a little more claw like, not unlike Percy's. But for everything else – his frame, his hair, the majority of his features, and even some of his expressions – he could have been Ronald Weasley's twin. It still bothered her, this similarity. It felt like some God out there was laughing at her, waving a treat in her face that she knew she couldn't possibly have.

Sally sat next to Law, as always. Too close. He was too focused to notice the increasing weight on his right side. Her expression was melodramatically breathless as she watched him think.

Ash saw Hermione's direction of thought and threw her an amused glance. Hermione knew that Ash felt the same distain towards Sally's silly behaviour. Hermione smirked to the girl – smirking, something that had become a new past time of Hermione's. A vital one.

Tom was on Law's other side, focusing all his attention intently on the game. He seemed extremely interested. Hermione wasn't stupid; she knew Tom was the one pulling all the strings in this game. But why? Why was Tom taking such an interest? And what would Tom have Law make her do under his control for twenty-four hours if he won?

Draco sat beside her, offering her his once again reluctant support. He hadn't talked to her much today but had still kept up impressions, not showing any of his hostility in front of any of the others, except in a carefully timed scowl or a stealthy narrowing of eyes. For some absurd reason, Hermione was almost sad about his lack of understanding. But he was on her side, and that was all she needed him for at that moment.

The problem was, Draco was absolutely dreadful at chess. It become apparent to Hermione the minute she'd began playing and he'd began whispering his "hints" into her ear. His moves were sloppy, unplanned and seemed completely random. Maybe he understood where he was going with his confusing schemes but Hermione was not willing to sacrifice one single pawn for him. He became increasingly frustrated but the hints did not decrease. Ash and Tom seemed to find this amusing.

Tom offered hints to Law too, although Hermione was under no illusions that they weren't more like orders and that they were much more helpful than Malfoy's. Never the less, Hermione was not frightened. She felt an inner strength inside her and decided to just go with the flow and not lose confidence in her abilities. She had defeated Ron…

When she finally, finally, finally uttered "Checkmate," it was almost two in the morning, Sally had fallen asleep against Law, mouth open and snoring softly, Ash was quiet and tired, and Law seemed to have almost lost interest. Draco was not longer paying attention, only offering an even weaker hint than normal every now and then after demanding a long and detailed explanation as to "What's happening now?" It was only Tom was still seemingly riveted in the game still. Hermione admitted to herself that her eyes were definitely heavy and that bed was the only proper celebration she could go through with.

Tom stood up silently and left, muttering a single "Congratulations, Zabini. Come on, Law. You lost." Before Law left to enter the room with Tom on his own, he looked in Ash's direction, and there was something in his face Hermione had never seen on his face but had seen on Ron's many times – _fear_. Ash returned his look with a blank, cool face, her expression telling Hermione nothing.

"Are you happy then?" Ash said to Hermione, and her voice held a subtle bitter tone.

"Not happy," Hermione responded and faked a loud yawn. "Just sleepy."

"C'mon so, we'll go to bed. Grab this one, we'll lift her up," Ash gestured at Sally. "If we wake her, we'll never hear the end of it."

Hermione put one arm around Sally and hitched her up and Ash did the same on the other side.

"Good night, Draco," Hermione said pointedly. He didn't reply. She looked. He was fast asleep on the couch, looking quite comfortable despite the odd angle. Something in this image – Malfoy sleeping – made her stomach flop. She looked away sharply, and then looked back. A moment's reflection, and she decided to leave him there to sleep like that.

* * *

Hermione's first thought in the morning was this: _I won. I won, and today's Law is under my control._

The thought brought a slow relish through her body, and her fingers and toes tingled. It was almost like a sexual experience – a wicked, forbidden idea full of possibilities and plots. Law…would get his comeuppance, at last.

She realised she was up early again. Stretching lazily, she smiled. Today was going to be a good day, she just knew it. Despite the grey skies of yesterday, the world was bright and blue again and it threatened to be a beautiful day. She sat down at the dresser and reached for Sally's brush and Malfoy's serum. She wanted to make an effort today. She realised that she was becoming better at caring for her hair. It was something she'd never wished to do but even she could admit the result was alarming. Her face seemed narrower somehow, and her features less harsh. The new darkness made her face paler, which she disliked, but her lashes seemed darker too and her eyes were more noticeable without the cloud of distracting frizz. She wasn't beautiful, but, looking at herself, she realised it was probably the first time she'd ever looked at her reflection and appreciated what she did have with proper sincerity.

On walking through the Common Room, she noticed the lack of a sleeping Malfoy immediately. He must have found his way to his bed earlier that morning. She was relieved. She didn't think she liked seeing him in such a way, as if he was a normal boy and she was just a normal girl. She refused to let herself forget who he was, even if he thought she was forgetting her own identity.

When she approached the Slytherin table, she realised nobody was up yet from her new house. Only one Gryffindor decorated the hall. Hermione looked at McGonagall and thought. _An idea was forming._

Ash, Tom and Law entered the Grand Hall together some time later. They were close together, moving almost protectively around each other. Tom was in the middle.

"Good morning, Law," she greeted in a chirpy cheerful voice.

He sat down as far from her as he could, while still being close to his two housemates who was sitting on either side of Hermione. She felt they might have been trying to intimidate her.

She decided to ignore them. "Say 'Good morning, Hermione,' Law, and sit here opposite me." Her tone was brisk and held no room for argument. She felt Tom tense beside her, but she could swear Ash was trying to hide a smile.

Law looked at her begrudgingly but moved to his pre-destined seat and muttered, "Good morning, Hermione."

"Once more with feeling," she said, her tone back to being chirpy and pleasant, almost musical.

He made a weak attempt.

"No," she said and frowned deeply at him. "Aren't you going to make good with your promise, Law? I don't know how you do things in Hogwarts, but Betting was a pure-blood tradition and I had thought you would honour this tradition and _do what you are told."_

He looked at Tom and Ash but apparently was offered no solace in either of their expressions. With a deeply inhaled breath, he greeted with a bright smile, "Good morning, Hermione!"

Her fork, which had been in the process of being raised to her mouth, dropped to her plate with a loud clang. With that sunny smile and happy greeting, Law had somehow morphed into Ron. For one desperate moment, she felt an incredible urge to lunge over the table and hug him. A second later, she pushed such a silly urge down with a strong shout at herself to get a grip and a laughable moment when she imagined Law's reaction to such a gesture.

She retrieved the fork with every appearance of calm but inside she was still shaking. All thoughts of this being a good day were banished. Now she was only worried of how bad a day it would be, and would she make it through alive.

"Very good," she said then. "Next time, let's try get it on the first try, shall we?"

Law stared at her and then hissed at her, _"_What exactly are you planning on making me do, Zabini?"

She let a slow smile grace her face, a terrible, gleeful smile. She saw Law recoil; looking as if she'd slapped him in the face.

She let him stare horrified at her for another few beats before saying, "Oh, you know, a little bit of this, a little bit of thought and, you know, professing your love to McGonagall."

Ash let her composure drop at last. Giggles erupted from her like lava and gases from a bulging volcano. Then Hermione heard a new sound added to the surprisingly loud and girly giggles (not unlike those of Lavender Brown's). A high-pitched laugh, full of coldness and evilness…Tom was laughing…

_Laughing the laugh that dozens had heard for their last moments…the laugh that people have nightmares about….the laugh of Death…_

Except Tom hadn't done that yet. He wasn't laughing at another one of his murders, he was laughing about a bet that had gone wrong and caused one of his mates to go through an embarrassing ordeal…When Tom looked at her whilst laughing, there was a sort of warmth and approval in his face.

"Oh," she said, covering her tracks because she'd been sitting there for a minute with a stricken look on her face, "and, Law, you must kiss her."

Law looked almost as horrified as one of Lord Voldemort's victims would have.

This comparison made Hermione feel sick and she didn't eat any more and acted rather nice to Law for the rest of the morning.

* * *

Sally was late getting up and maintained a ruffled, not-quite-awake look about her throughout the day. Draco was last to rise and was only a few seconds from being late for class and losing Slytherin points. Tom didn't look pleased when Draco ran in. Tom was a prefect and took his duty and his Slytherin-honour quite seriously. Although he didn't say anything to him, both her and Draco knew that he could not be late again. 

"The next class is Potions. We have that class with the Gryffindors. After that we have lunch. You can catch McGonagall going from the dungeons to the Grand Hall. Make sure we're all there; otherwise you'll have to wait. I don't want anyone to miss a minute of it." Hermione patted him mockingly on the back. "Don't worry, sport, you'll do great."

Despite himself, Law grinned at her. "You've really surprised us all, you know. Even Tom."

She couldn't meet his eyes, turning her face away and answered, "I know. There's a lot to me than meets the eye."

"That's what Tom said," Law said and continued, in an almost apologetic tone, "when you first arrived. I didn't believe him, but I believe him now."

She nodded, her face still averted from him.

"But Hermione Zabini, you know…if you'd been under _my_ control…" He grinned again.

"Luckily, Law Weasley, I'm the better chess player, so!" she replied, grinning back at him almost teasingly. It was all in good fun, she knew, and was a welcome relief from all the coldness pent up and the walls that had been cemented around them all.

"Remember," she said now before he could get out his reply, "after this class. Tell McGonagall how much you fancy her, and kiss her. Have you got that?"

"How could he forget?" Ash piped in, sitting down at their Potions table. "I imagine he's been dreading it ever since you told him of your little idea. Kissing McGonagall…I can't say the idea has much of an appeal to any boy."

Sally was scowling. "Do you really have to do it, Law? Why don't you just ignore Hermione? Who cares? Kissing McGonagall is disgusting!"

"Of course Law has to do it, Sally," Tom said with contempt. This was the first time Hermione had ever heard Tom addressing Sally. "No matter what, he has to do it. We would have made Hermione if she had lost, wouldn't we have?"

"But that's different!" Sally whined. "She's only new and…"

Nobody listened to the rest of her argument. Everybody present knew that Law would have to go through with the bet.

* * *

The Potions class, predictably, dragged on so that every minute seemed an ordeal and every hour an eternity. Hermione waited and felt excitement bubble up inside her. She almost had difficulty with an answer the Professor asked her, only getting it right a heartbeat before Tom had managed to cut in. 

The class eventually ended and she forced herself not to leap from her seat. Making herself instead pack her bag and slowly stand up, she prepared herself from a certain high degree of laughing that would be deemed appropriate.

She strolled after Law at her own leisure, making sure to keep him in sight. Tom stayed by her side, his pace matching hers. Ash was a little bit ahead, a little quicker, and Sally was skulking behind them, lower lip jutted out noticeably.

With Law's reluctant gasp of "Can I talk to your for a few moments, Minerva?", Hermione found herself pressing forward eagerly and placed herself next to a doubled up Malfoy. Law was charging along with his confession.

"I'm mad about you, Minerva, I can't get you out of my head…I-I think I'm in love and-" As if words had suddenly failed to express his sudden burst of emotion, Law leapt on to McGonagall and snogged her full force.

"Brilliant, Hermione," Malfoy gasped through his laugher, streams of tears down his face, "Absolutely brilliant."

Her heart began beating quickly, warm happy feelings spread through her, and she was inexplicitly glad Draco wasn't angry with her anymore.

* * *

"Come to the library," she muttered to Law, "and don't tell anyone where you're going." Draco had already discussed this with her earlier that day, just after classes. They couldn't forget their mission, could they? Despite all the fun they'd had today, Hermione felt she should put this newfound power to good use. 

She brought Law to the darkest, quietest desk in the library, where they were completely and utterly alone. He looked at her warily as he sat down. She remained standing. Draco appeared a little time later. She revealed the small vial to him first, and then showed it to Law. From his blank face, she knew he didn't know what it was.

"Veritaserum," she explained. "A truth potion. We're going to talk to you for a few moments." It had been one of the cleverer things Hermione had brought with her. She had thought, perhaps, that she would use it to question Tom. But she realised the opportunity of this happening was very, very unlikely. The potion was just another of her pawns that she would have to sacrifice. She didn't have anymore.

Law looked more alarmed at this prospect than of kissing McGonagall but Hermione was determined now.

"Drink it," she said, pushing it towards him.

"No."

"Drink it," she barked.

"I don't want to."

"Drink it," she ordered and her voice was suddenlyharsh and quite unlike her own. Her wand was raised and pointing at his throat, her hand shaking with adrenaline. "Drink or so help me God-"

Draco pulled her away from Law. "Calm down," he hissed at her.

She swallowed down a lump that was forming in her throat but couldn't quite stop shaking. Adrenaline was pumping through her, making her whole body feel like it was a pulsing heart. Blood rushed in her ears. She realised that perhaps all the stress was getting to her more than she had known.

Silence. Draco was looking at her with wonder. Law looked like he'd just tasted something dirty.

"Well," Draco said in a calm voice, talking to Law again, "you heard the woman. Drink the potion or you're in for it, mate."

Law glared at Draco and then, angrily, took the potion in one fast gulp.

The change was instant. Law's expression became loose and vacant. His jaw was slack, and his eyes looking at nothing.

"Law?" Draco said in an uncertain voice, "can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Malfoy whispered to her, making sure Law couldn't hear.

"Yeah, I'm okay now. It was just a brief lapse of control."

"Yes, well, don't let it happen again," he told her sternly, but she wouldn't dream of it. She didn't know what had come over her, and felt much more peaceful now. She was ready to question Law.

"Do you fancy Sally?" she asked first, and Malfoy smirked.

"Ugh. No." Law's nose winkled up.

"Why not?"

"She smells too much like flowers."

Malfoy snickered, and Hermione bit her lip on a developing smile.

"Any other reason?"

"She doesn't excite me," Law said, sounding as though he was reading from a boring textbook. "I always thought, when I found the girl for me, she'd be a challenge. A real proper girl. Fiery. A girl I'd never get bored with." So Law was deeper than he let on. How interesting.

Hermione observed him and then asked, "Why do you suck up to Tom so much?"

Law frowned absently as if struggling to find the right words. "Afraid." One word, two syllables, breathed out slowly.

"Afraid?" Draco looked over at Hermione, looking startled. Her eyes were trained on Law and nothing else.

"Because…I am afraid of Tom. I suck up to Tom because I am afraid of him."

Hermione swooped down closer to him, leaning on the table so they were at a more even level. "Why are you afraid of Tom, Law?" she whispered to him gently, her breath coming quickly.

"Because he's dangerous. You-" His eyes met Hermione's, focused on her but still vacant; cornflower blue, just like Ron's now. "You haven't a clue what he's capable of."

Draco swooped down on Law too, his shoulder against Hermione's, so close, eyes on Law, demanding answers. "And what is he capable of, Weasley? What's he planning to do?"

Silence and then:

"He's planning on re-opening the Chamber of Secrets. Again. But this time he's going to do it. He's going to do it, and all the Muggleborns will perish. Of course I suck up to him. Of course I'm afraid of him." Law shuddered visibly, finally talking and telling the truth.

"He calls himself _Voldemort_."

Hermione jumped back, as if electricity had just surged through her. Draco remained where he was, not moving at all. "He calls himself _Lord Voldemort,_" Law continued slowly, "and I can honestly hardly even speak the name."

* * *

_AN: Wow, thirty-one reviews for that one chapter and they haven't even stopped coming! Thank you SO much! Just because of such a nice response, I have made this chapter really long (for me!) It's about twice the length of my normal chapters. Thank you for all your help with the time frame – as you may have realised I'm not going to change it. Tom tried opening the Chamber in his fifth year. He's now in his seventh and he's going to try again. He hasn't killed his dad so far, I haven't even thought of that issue yet._

_Law may seem weaker here but this is just the truth. He will be back to himself after – it's the Potion's fault. Also, Hermione will learn a little more about the consequences of her actions and a rude awakening as to what she's turning into. Tom/Hermione in the next chapter. A lot of it. It's been delayed but for a reason. You'll see. _

_**SPOILERS – DO NOT READ - HBP**: About the HBP….I have mixed feelings. It was good, but I rather felt that it was like reading a fan fiction of it, in which I'd say "Good, but not JK Rowling good." I had to remember this was actually the sixth book. Harry wasn't moody, which was good, but I thought Ron came across as a prat (such a young fella!), Hermione a crazy woman, and Ginny a bitch! I am presuming Snape is not what we think now, and I'm upset about that person dieing. Draco's character was a surprise though – I'm glad he didn't become his father. The twins have some apologising to do though, don't they? Not too many other thoughts though…I liked the minor character developments and, yes, it was covered in clichés but they didn't bother me too much. It was just…meh….okay, it was brilliant…but….I dunno. I'd feel better if I knew the seventh book would be out before two years, you know?_

* * *

**Thanks to:**

_Demeter, Goddess of Protection_ – Soon enough for ya? Cheers.

_Twinkling Blue Eyes_ – The Confrontation won't be 'till a while. It's bubbling. Draco's not going to sacrifice the mission just to have a mindless fight with Tom, is he? Yeah, there's only one more book. I can't wait for it though. I'll only be sad when I turn the last page.

_Ridea _– Thank you.

_HermioneCharlotteGranger_ – That was a pretty quick update, right?

_ArdentEntity_ – That goes without saying. Of course I'll read yours. Yeah, it took me ages to get to read HBP too. Thanks, love!

_Kjerstimalfoy_ – I read your review when I was feeling better but thanks, that sounded lovely. I love rambling reviews, don't ever apologise! Thank you!

_Illyria-light_ – Things like Time-Frames and stuff seem to sorta go over my head. I don't know why. Even in like all my stories, I have to keep looking back and see what year I'm in or did that really happen? That's why I try avoiding the minor details so much, because I forget about them and end up contradicting them.

_Natyslacks _– Thanks a lot!

_Syaoronsangel_ – I didn't cry but there was shock then slight tears. Thank you!

_Ebony 'n' ivory_ – Cool new name! Thanks for your reviews, honest or otherwise I don't mind just keep 'em coming!

_PrincessBitterHeart _– Ah no! Don't forget! That's Hermione's problem too, see? Thank you!

_CareBearErin_ – I agree with you about the women being bitches but I don't think it really shows Tom being evil from birth. A bully, yes definitely, a bit more like Dudley than Harry. But, yes, there's a nasty streak that Harry just doesn't have, and I liked the whole choices thing. I wonder if JK has realised that.

_ElementalDragon1 _– Thanks as always! You rock!

_Linwe Falassion_ – Thank you very much! Hope you're still reading!

_Unspeakable Mae_ – Is it hard to read a fic in English if it isn't your first language? I imagine it must be quite frustrating. But then, you must be pretty good at it to be doing so.

_Sarklover826_ – Your review was probably the clearest with the answer. Thank you very much.

_Hatami _– This chapter is much longer than my normal. Can it just be a relationship full of lurve now? Hehe

_Sugar-n-spice522_ – Do you know? I can't remember, I'll have to look! Thankies!

_Alenor –_ Thanks for your ever present help and support!

_Kuri the Harbinger of Night_ – Thank you very much, I always want people's opinions on these things.

_Fujutsu –_ Cheers for all the help!

_Wanderingwind_ – thanks, love, that was a nice review!

_Dracodolenz _– Heh, twisted is good. I have written a lot of twisted things in my life. I think the Slytherins are twisted. But I always knew I wanted Hermione to win.

_LovesBitch2 –_ Cool name, and thanks.

_Magicalflame _– Thanks!

_Madamtae _– Thank you. Yeah, I wanted to make that realisation a point. Some of the stuff people do…the Weasley twins booing the first years and stuff…I thought it'd be interesting to see how Hermione would feel.

_The Cardboard Moon_ – Your idea was used, and twisted and inspired. I got a little confused, but thanks very much. Plus, I did NOT know how to spell that potion!

_Vedgirl1201_ – I was better this time, wasn't I? With the updates?

_Firesorcess1 _– True about the sappy romances. **Spoilers HBP**: The Horcruxes was good (so easy to fit into fan fiction) but I thought a lot of Tom's past was a bit unnecessary!

_Lisi_ – Thank you! I hope this one was dramatic enough for you! I did try! Thank you! I always feel bad after a filler chapter!

_Seghen_ – Thank you for you approval, and your help (I forgot about the ring in that memory!) and I really do like you very much.

* * *

_I love you all and must greedily ask for more support. I can't tell you how encouraging it is. I would never threaten a update because I will update regardless if I have people reviewing or not, but it does give one a marvelous lift and the ability to write quicker. please give ma any ideas or qualms you might have! Oh, and check out my two new stories: **Thirst** and **Be Strong.**_

_**Thirst **is Hermione/Draco, all the way, with a few backgroud pairings._

_**Be Strong **is Harry/Ginny/Blaise and Hermione/Draco._

_I'll be going on about them for a while. I've gotten out of my one-shot mood now, and want to start writing good stories again. I'm sorry to any peeps waiting for a** Deal With the Devil** update too, It's just not coming very easily. Blah...I can't wait 'till that story is finished._

_**Vulgarities of Life** will be finished but I know not many read it so I'm not feeling too presured about that one._


	15. The Lack of Control

_A little grown up, but nothing too bad..._

* * *

Draco walked Law back. Law, who had just been Obliviated, didn't look at all well. He was pale and mumbling and not very coherent. Hermione could only hope Tom didn't see him like that.

She stayed in the secluded spot in the library. She tried to convince herself that she was only staying to study. She did attempt to do so. The words were there but she was hyper-aware of her surroundings. She was probably reading the same line over and over again. Nothing was going in…she was waiting, waiting for…

When a tall dark-haired figure advanced upon her, she was not surprised.

"Hello, Tom," she said, standing up to greet him.

"Hermione," he said pleasantly. "I wondered where you had gone off to. Were Draco and Law with you?"

"Yes, but Law wasn't feeling well so Draco took him to bed."

"Of course he wasn't feeling well. You made him kiss Minerva McGonagall." A thin smirk graced his face. "Not that it wasn't all very amusing but still…"

"Still what?" She felt the space between them clear rather than see it. One minute she'd been cold, goose bumps up her arms, but then she felt warmth radiating off of him. He was suddenly close, almost looming over her. She couldn't take her eyes off of him.

She had never met anybody so _handsome _in her life.

His hair was a shade darker than hers. Tidy and respectable but with a little ruffle at the back. A shock of darkness on his head, to match the darkness present in his expressions.

Those eyes…she was falling in those eyes…they hypnotised her into doing something stupid, something dangerous…they whispered at her that whatever didn't kill her would make her stronger…

"But still," he said, drawing closer still, "you forgot one thing?"

She refused to show him fear but she was certain he could hear her heart bounding. Something like blind panic was setting in on her, and all she could see was the darkness…

"What did I forget?"

"You forgot that I _hate_ losing." Tom was looking down at her slightly parted lips, with an almost hungry appearance on his face. He reached up a hand and stroked her face. One cold stroke – shivers slithered up her spine. "I had such fun things planned for you today, Hermione."

He didn't kiss her. Instead he used the aristocrat hand that had stroked her to grasp her chin and pull – not roughly, but with a irresistible force – her face up to his, her lips to meet his…but, still, she was the one to start the kiss.

* * *

Draco dumped Law on the bed unceremoniously and returned to the Common Room. Ash and Sally were both there, Ash staring moodily at the fire and Sally deeply enthralled in a book. 

"How are you?" Draco sat down next to Ash.

"Tired," she admitted.

"Why are you tired?"

"We were up late last night," she said in way of explanation, but he knew it was more that that. She said "Tired" as if it meant more than that, as if she was tired of her life.

He didn't follow through with his investigation. He was tired too.

They sat beside each other for quite some time, even after Sally had retired to bed, both deep in thought about some-what similar topics.

* * *

It was so _wrong…_

She couldn't really be kissing Voldemort, could she? Except, he wasn't Voldemort…He was Tom. Despite everything, he hadn't done all that yet. She couldn't properly judge him on what he was going to do…wasn't she here to try prevent that?

It was so _forbidden…._

She felt like she'd just taken a Muggle form of drug. Suddenly all she felt, all she thought was Tom. He was her world. Every sensation, every trace of logic, everything was Tom's…

She gave into it, and felt him respond just as enthusiastically.

She kissed him with her many emotions. Somehow he had her pushed against the table, pinning her down. There was a dull ache forming in her lower back from the angle but she couldn't give a damn. She just had to keep kissing Tom…

It was so _satisfying…_

His lips seemed made to connect with hers and despite the roughness of the situation, his kisses were not harsh but variable, switching between light, soft kisses and long hard ones.

His body was merely a mould in which to hold hers. His hands traced up and down her lovingly, like an artistic with a soft paintbrush. Hers were in his hair, unable to tangle it…_silk_…

It was so _terrible_…

Her face was wet with salty tears, she realised. She was crying. Her eyes were closed, but tears were squeezing through. Her throat was burning but her kissing increased. A snuffle sounded from her throat and he kissed her harder too, trying to block out the pain.

His hands slivered up and began picking at the buttons of her school shirt. Her school robe had fallen off on to the ground, as had his. He was wearing a white school shirt just like her but not as tussled.

"No."

He began kissing her neck, still picking at the buttons, light butterfly kisses, and she opened her eyes, blinking away the tears. The library was darker and deserted. Would anybody hear her if she screamed?

"No," she repeated to him.

He had unbuttoned her shirt completely now and was trying to pull it off.

"No," she said with more strength.

"Why not?" he replied huskily, still trying to slip the shirt off her tensed shoulders.

"We are not doing this!" she told him in a shrill voice. "We can't…_I_ can't…"

"Why not, Hermione?"

"Because…Because! Tom, do you even _like_ me?"

"I dare say, Hermione, I like you a great deal." His eyes roved over her body, especially the white, bare skin she had showing thanks to his unbuttoning tactics. His pupils were completely dilated, his whole eyes black and full of conflicting light and darkness.

"No," she said. "I don't want to do this…not with you…"

"Who would you like to do this with, so? Malfoy, is it?" Tom looked triumphantly disgusted.

"No!" she shrilled, before thinking. "Draco and I, we're not like that!"

He didn't even try looking convinced. "I've seen the boy looking at you, Hermione." He reached up that offending hand to wipe away a newly formed tear. "You just have no idea how beautiful you are."

"I'm not," she murmured, eyes still on his hand, his fingers moist from her tear.

"Not classically beautiful," he observed, "but there's something about you…once you get to know you…I just can't seem to get enough…"

"Stop!" she yelled, hoping somebody would hear her. Her fingers were fidgeting with the buttons, but she couldn't re-do them they were trembling so hard. "Please! Tom, just let me go, would you? I'm really tired!"

He began buttoning up her shirt for her, fingers careful to brush against her sensitive skin every time. She felt like she couldn't breathe. He leaned back from her, and she felt like she could move again.

He moved his hands up to her hair, smoothing it down, and tucked a stray strand behind her ear. She watched him, almost with horror. He wiped the remaining tears from her face slowly, and picked up her cloak for her, turned her by the shoulders, and put it back on. She stood there, dumbly, following his silent commands as if unable to function herself. She still couldn't breathe properly.

"Now," he said. "You can go now. Now, you look presentable." There was laugher present in his face, although his mouth was sombre.

She felt indignation rise up her and, without thinking, went to slap him across the face. He caught her hand before it even nearly ratcheted off his face, and held it up, eyes holding hers.

"Don't." A command, but one she followed. There was no laughter in his face anymore. Her arm went limp in his hand and, after a minute, he let it flop down.

"You can't treat me like rubbish," she hissed at him now, edging away from him but still wondering why she wasn't running from him now that he was letting her go free.

"I wouldn't dream of doing so," he said calmly.

"Then…why? Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to…hurt me?"

"_I'm not!" _A raw, sudden outburst. She stared at him, at his momentary lack of control.

It only lasted a second. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I didn't want to make you cry. I hadn't meant to kiss you tonight."

"Then why did you come here, into this library? Into this secluded spot?" she accused angrily, her voice high and dramatic.

"Because I knew you were here," he said, simply and truthfully. "You were here, and I just wanted to be with you."

* * *

_A short update, but a quick one all the same._

_Any news, people? I just saw the new version of Charlie and the Choclate Factory. Very good. I always thought the idea of it and stuff was really freaky, but I enjoyedthis version. Johnny Depp as Wonka really reminded me of him as Edward Scissorhands, although that was made years beforehand/ Same kind of portral or something. But brilliant. I really enjoyed it. It made me feel very...happy. _

_Here's the promised **Hermione/Tom action**. There'll be more. But what's going to happen now that Hermione's left her defences down, eh? And isn't Tom wondering why she's crying? There'll be more Hermione/Tom action in the next few chapters...I have everything planned out. I'm really enjoying writing this story, I'm not going to lie._

_**Thanks to:**_

_**Seghen** - Nice to see you back, girl, and with a new chappie to read, I'm a happy girl. Thansk for all your reviews. _

_**Fleur Princesse** - Here's the action, and there'll be more._

_**HermioneCharlotteGranger** - I didn't really get the question but thanks for the review! _

_**vla1diva** - Unique is what I'm going for. I'd hate if it was very unoriginal._

_**Jasmine** - Thanking you most kindly._

_**illyria-light** - McGonagall's reaction was supposed to be in this chapter, but it'll be in the next._

_**LaxGoalie** - Thank you very, very, very much._

_**Sakuya Kaleido** - That wasn't really a cliffhanger. More of a resting point._

_**Fujitisi** - Thank you!_

_**ElementalDragon1** - You didn't have to wait long really, did you?_

_**The CardBoard Moon** - Any more nice ideas for me, to fill the next couple of chapters? Before the finale..._

_**Sarklover86** - True, but I felt it was more surprising to have Hermione win. You never know, I might do a companion piece as to what would ahve happened if she'd lost..._

_**maiden aurora** - Sorry it wasn't long. But I am in an updating modd tonight. This was actually supposed to be at the end of the last chapter, but I feel, due to its intensity, it'll suffice as its own chapter._

_**CareBearErin** - Thanks very much for your continued support._

**_Remember long reviews rock!_**


	16. The Smile of a Snake

_Dedicated to everyone that reviews. It's such a nice thing to do. You can really have no idea how much it does mean…._

* * *

Hermione lurched from the library as if she'd drank gallons of Butterbeer. Her heart thudded dimly in her chest still, and a terrible giddiness was overriding her senses. The world seemed foggy and full of unimportant objects. She stumbled through the hallway, taking in nothing except her thumping heart beat.

She didn't know what to do.

She didn't really understand what had just happened. She didn't understand how her opinion of someone had changed so much. She'd thought of him as a boy, born evil, and ready to do bad things, biding his time. Now…now she was confused. What if, beyond anything she'd ever imagined, Tom wasn't as simple as that? What if he was actually able to feel emotions? What if, despite everything, he wasn't as evil now as he was to become? What if he was indeed falling for her?

But he'd tried to open the Chamber of Secrets already, hadn't he? He'd killed Myrtle!

Hermione realised she'd never actually heard the full story of that. With a determined air, she changed direction and headed down towards the Girls' bathroom, the one that she knew Myrtle haunted.

Hermione swung her bag around her shoulder, adjusting it so it was a little more comfortable, and opened the door, taking a deep breath.

"Hello Myrtle!" she greeted with every appearance of cheerfulness.

The bathroom was as dark and dank as it was in her own time. Miserable place, and flooded with water. All the small windows were open and cold air wrapped itself around her. Myrtle floated in front of her in a seated position, and looked the same as she did in the future. The sight of this miserable, transparent girl brought back warm memories to Hermione – no distinct ones just a sense of familiarity; red hair, broken glasses and lopsided, lazy grins.

"Here comes the new girl," Myrtle spat out the words bitterly, "coming to have a laugh at poor Myrtle, are you? Have they all told you about my sad, lonely time in this smelly bathroom? Have they all been _gossiping_?"

Hermione spent the next few minutes reassuring the ghost that this was indeed not true. When Myrtle began moaning then about being forgotten, Hermione finally cut in, and raising her voice a little, looked straight at Myrtle and hissed, "Look, you silly little ghost, I do not want to waste my time with you any longer. Just tell me what I need to know, _now_!"

"What can you do to me?" sobbed Myrtle, looking startled and miserable at Hermione's outburst. "I'm already dead!"

"Let's see, shall we?" Hermione raised her wand. Something was crackling through her, a sparkling energy that was drawing her into doing something rash. Her voice sounded harsh and deeper. Her heart wasn't beating at all and, in one dizzy moment, Hermione felt like it wasn't there anymore. It was no longer the cold air that was making her feel so stone-like and cool, and she was suddenly prepared, and almost excited, at the prospect of being able to do anything.

Myrtle seemed to sense this too, and swallowed down her tears.

"All I want to know," Hermione continued, "is how you died. Was it the boy or was it the snake?" She had received the details off of Harry, but she still wasn't sure.

"I-I don't know. It wasn't the boy. He had disappeared. It had been some kind of creature. I don't know what though."

"Did you know Tom Riddle? Do you know him now? Has he ever come by here again?"

"I don't know any Tom Riddle, and I have never seen a boy in here since that one night."

"And," Hermione asked finally, losing her threatening eye contact with the ghost, "what was your heritage? Were you Muggleborn or a Pureblood?"

"Half Blood," Myrtle replied, as Hermione stalked over to the taps and began examining them.

"And your house?" Hermione prompted, her eyes finally finding the little snake decorating one of the taps. She looked at it closely, taking in its immaculate detail.

"Ravenclaw."

Hermione straightened and stepped back to Myrtle. So she had been right; Tom had no meant to kill Myrtle, it had not been because of any grudge or maliciousness. Just a out of control pet and unfortunate timing. Hermione knew it wasn't right, it wasn't logical or morally correct, but she felt better, knowing it hadn't been Tom's wish to kill an innocent silly girl. It made the tightening in her chest ease a little and she was able to swallow again.

"Can I go now?" Myrtle said, and there were tears rolling down her face. There were no sobs or wails, only small, rolling tears. "Only you're really rude and mean. I hate you." With that Myrtle swirled away down a toilet and Hermione was left standing on her own. Despite Myrtle's often over-dramatic behaviour, Hermione still felt rotten. She'd never been told somebody hated her.

Was she really changing?

Before, would she have spoken to Myrtle in such a way?

Was it the influence of being in Slytherin?

Or was it from becoming friends with a Malfoy?

Or was it from kissing Tom?

* * *

She continued down the hallway, thinking about a lot of things at the same time so everything became very muddled and she wasn't really thinking properly about anything at all. Her footsteps echoed in her ears, and she'd never really felt so alone. The hallway was dark and, as always these days it seemed, cold.

She heard crying all of sudden, coming from an empty classroom not far. By the human instinct to see anything terrible – like when passer-bys stop at an accident to see who's hurt – she edged closer, careful to be quiet.

For some odd reason, Hermione thought it might be Ash. It was just her first thought. As if the girl was really hiding a whole side to her – a side of emotions and sadness, bitter loneliness and regret at her part behaviour – but she'd never really seen any such proof and certainly held none now. She knew, instantly, that this crying girl was not Ash but was almost as surprised to find it being McGonagall.

Somebody was with her. A friend, obviously, a girl, shushing her and muttering some unoriginal, comforting nonsense.

"I don't really think it meant anything to him!" McGonagall was crying, in a tone Myrtle might have used. "But…when we kissed…it felt as if I was coming alive. Like I wasn't just boring Minerva McGonagall, I was somebody wild and dangerous and…," a slight hesitation, "_beautiful_."

The other girl continued with her shushing and muttering, but Hermione knew McGonagall couldn't hear a word she said.

"Law Weasley is a pig!" she exclaimed now. "How embarrassing! I've never felt so embarrassed in my life, so humiliated! Wait until I see him next…I'll get him back…what a complete mockery of _everything_ I stand for!" An angry hiccup followed. "And that new girl – Hermione Zabini! How dare she just play with people's feelings like that, as if she owns the school already. Thank Merlin she was sorted into Slytherin – but then I can't imagine any other house accepting her! What a _bitch_!"

Hermione had never been called such a thing before. It felt like a slap in the face. Nobody – nobody – had ever thought of her in such a way!

But then Hermione had never acted in such a way. She'd never stopped to think of McGonagall's feelings, after being snubbed by her earlier on. She hadn't realised what an effect it would have on the Gryffindor, nor did she ever imagine that McGonagall might have feelings for a Slytherin, let alone one who embraced their house so enthusiastically as Law did. She'd never stopped to think – but Hermione always stopped to think! It was what she did! She was an excessive worrier, she could guess what everyone was feeling before they even opened their mouths, and she was sensitive to everybody in a situation!

"_You're changing, do you know that? You're changing, becoming something…something darker. Don't forget who you are, Granger."_

Oh shove off, Malfoy, thought Hermione crossly, although becoming increasingly anxious due to the fact that Malfoy's voice was in her mind and that she was actually responding back to it.

Hermione slipped away from the doorway and walked down the hallway again, head buzzing. She felt like she was trembling from the inside, trembling so much, the pressure increasing, that she was going to explode. The hallway might have been quiet but Hermione's mind was alive with noise and flashing lights, and she realised almost instantly that she was going to have a break down. She reached a dark corner and leaned against the wall, before slithering down it and bringing her knees to her chest, doing nothing but trying to breathe normally again.

* * *

Draco had left Ash more than an hour before and returned to his bedroom. Tom was fast asleep in the other bed. Draco put up the curtains around his bed and breathed deeply into the silence, hands under his head, sprawled out, ankles crossed lazily.

He couldn't help wonder where Hermione had run off to.

Or where Tom was.

And whether they were together…

The door creaked open.

"Draco?"

Not Malfoy, but Draco. Just like he'd been calling her Hermione. A subconscious change – they'd had to most of the time after all – but still, it was strange, her using his first name when they were in nobody's company but a sleeping Weasley.

His curtains were pulled back to reveal her. She looked calm, and taller than normal. She was smiling, a weird sort of smile, oddly twisted. He didn't dwell on it much though. His eyes were focused on her – she was wearing very little close for who she was. Her black cloak and school jumper were nowhere in sight, instead she was simply wearing her white crisp school shirt and kilted school skirt, which she seemed to have rolled up to quite a high angle. Her hair was louse around her shoulders, untidy and uncombed – he'd never seen her like this before.

"Hermione?" His voice was uncertain and weak and he was ashamed of its lack of coolness. He tried to retrieve his indifferent manner, but he couldn't quite stop staring at her. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," she said, closing his curtains around them. "I feel so restless tonight." She threw another smile in his direction.

What a strange thing to say…and what was he supposed to do with it?

He swallowed, as she drew closer.

"Hermione? What- what are you doing?"

She kneeled up on to his bed, and he just couldn't stop staring.

"Draco…you like me, don't you? I mean, you really, really, really like me?" She began crawling towards him.

He wasn't sure what to do. "I don't know what you mean," he replied back pathetically.

"You do," she said, and smiled at him again, her hands surrounding him, her body over his. "I can _see_ you do, Draco." _The smile of a snake._

His face flushed.

She kissed him. She was different than what he'd have thought. A bit wild – confident – and tough. There was no tenderness, but skill and a sort of determination. Her hands roamed, and he knew she was not afraid.

He panicked. What is she doing? Has she changed so much? Why is he kissing her back? This isn't like how he imagined at all!

Was he really admitting to himself that he'd been imagining such a scene with _Granger_ at all?

A horrible giggle broke cut through the silence of the room, and he, before he had even shoved her off and opened his eyes, knew it was not Hermione at all, but Ash.

So Polyjuice potion existed back at this time too, eh? What a Pansy-like thing of you to do, Parkinson.

"I can't imagine a reason," Ash said, brown hair turning back to milky blonde, curves turning back to straightness, and the brown and ordinary turning back to the wicked and glinting, "but I knew you fancied that Hermione. I just needed proof and now, my dear, dear, new friend, I am going to blackmail you."

* * *

_Old AN:Sorry this was a bit of a short one – short, but the start of two new twists, so it's beneficial all the same. I'd liked to have made this update longer but I'm really, really, really tired. You know my job I told you all about ages – well, anyway, I got promoted. But, well, I get no extra money, I just have to put up with loads more crap and do loads of extra work. So…it's all extremely crappy, and I'm working non-stop (tomorrow I'm working a thirteen hour shift, including my break) so, to be honest, I'm just too tired to write. But…I quite yesterday so I have to finish my two weeks notice, but then school is starting, but I should still have more time to write. Plus, then it's all rainy and stuff, so I'll probably need writing as a form of some kind of enjoyment._

_Can't believe the summer's past so quickly! Yucky or what!_

_Anyway…yeah. Things are crap. So, you know, cheering up by review would rock! And I can't stress how much the last chapters reviews shocked me! I know that this one was a weak gratitude but…hey…I try._

**That AN up there was from a couple of days ago. Things have gotten worse. Something really bad has happened, and I just don't want to write much anymore, at least a for a little while. Nobody's died or anything….it's just bad. It's to do with my best friend and, well, I think of her as a sister and I really hope she's okay, and I'm just not bothered writing at the moment.**

**Actually, I will talk about it here but if you review, please don't mention it (if you really have something to say, send it in an email). I don't want to think about it, that's all I do these days. My best friend was raped a couple of days ago. And, afterwards, she had a shower – if you are ever in such a position, and I hope you never are – please, please, please don't shower – all evidence will be gone. Secondly, don't try to hide the pain – the people who love you can see it, and it hurts all the more. Thirdly, don't ever be ashamed. My friend won't even tell her family that she was raped, she didn't just have sex, because she feels guilty because she thinks she lead him on. If you say NO, and he goes ahead (even if you do not physically throw him off or scream – it can go sooo quickly you might not even realise what's happening – it is still _RAPE!_ Finally, tell the police and even if the raper does get away with it in the end, having the police knock on his door will give him a much-deserved scare and hopefully he will not do it again.**

**_I know I'd never let you read this, Jes, and I know you wouldn't want to but I love you, and I hope you'll be okay. I know how strong you are, but don't just block it out. _**


	17. The Core of Strength

_Dedicated to all the people who are as addicted to writing and Harry Potter as I am. Never change, we rock!_

_

* * *

_

"I don't understand." He watched her as she stood up from his bed, and began pacing smoothly. "Aren't you supposed to be in a wheelchair?"

"I intended to use you, Draco. Tell you nothing, and use you like a toy. But I realise you're too clever for that. You are. So…I will tell you the truth. But only if you do one thing…" Ash held up the truth potion, not unlike the one Hermione and himself had just tested on Law.

"No." His answer was resolute and without hesitation. He knew too much was at stake.

"I'll tell Hermione you fancy her."

"I don't care." In truth he did, but it wouldn't resolve in his sudden death, and he considered that a plus. Anyway, he could always deny it.

"I'm worried, Draco. Worried about Hermione! She's ruining everything!" Ash exclaimed suddenly and did a little turn, gesturing heavily with her arms – Draco had never seen her so passionate about a subject in his time here, she always seemed so indifferent. "I need your help, I'll admit that. Don't you see it? How close Hermione and Tom are getting? We have to stop them, you want to stop them, don't you, Draco Malfoy?"

Draco was suddenly caught in the image of her like a snake, the snake that taunted Adam with the forbidden fruit. She was indeed slithering in her movements, and the eyes that met his had an inhumane glint about them.

"Why do you even care? And _why are you able to walk_?" He was beyond confused – he seemed to have spent the last couple of days in an inconsistent state of bewilderment, and he didn't like it very much.

Ash took a deep breath, and began to explain, eyes flat and shining, watching his every nerve twitch, ready to pounce if he made any sudden movements. He'd never sat so still before in his life.

* * *

Hermione felt calm again. The sudden fluctuations in her moods were tiring but somehow reassuring. She felt better now, and could think and breathe normally again. She picked herself up, brushed herself down, and felt a sudden urge to do something productive. Do something fierce and brave. She felt disappointed in herself – she wanted to find that core of strength again, the core she knew was inside herself. 

She knew what she had to do.

She had to stop Tom opening the Chamber of Secrets.

Somehow, crying had cleansed her, cleared her mind and body and soul. The thought of Tom having feelings for her and her developing feelings for him was not so sickening as it had been only minutes before. Before, she'd felt tainted, dirty and disgusting. That had been silly. It was a natural development. Hadn't that been one of the reasons why she'd come back to the past, anyway? Hadn't she felt that _click_, that connection between them on a deeper connection that drew them together and made them see things in each other they'd only ever seen in themselves? She'd known there was something special about herself ever since she received that letter from Hogwarts when she was barely eleven years old, and she'd known there was something special about him when she was twelve and had looked into his eyes.

She began to walk to her destination, where she heard two voices, one was McGonagall's, and the other was Law's.

"How could you do that to me?" McGonagall was shrieking. "After everything we've shared, I thought you cared about me! But you're just another stupid Slytherin, thinking only for yourself, and I shouldn't have even bothered to think otherwise!"

"Minerva, please! I had to! That new girl – we had a bet – and – you know how I feel about you! Please – don't do this – it's not that big of a deal!"

"You completely mortified me!" she cried. "And…you don't get it! I thought you were _different_, Law, but you're not…" Her voice lowered. "I don't think this is going to work. I'm sorry. I think we should just end it now."

"You've changed me so much," he said softly. "Please…without you, everything seems pointless. Without you, what's the point?"

"The point is, you'll grow up and you won't be in Slytherin your whole life. Don't stay in Tom's shadow, Law. Please don't be afraid of him…show the Weasleys what you're made off, and maybe you can change everything…"

"I dunno, I don't think I can do that," he whined.

"You'll do it." Her voice sounded definite and certain, and strong. "Goodbye Lawrence."

And then there was the sound of footsteps walking away.

* * *

"Zabini, you can come out now," Law said after two minutes of silence. "I saw you the minute Minerva was gone." His voice was grim and tired. 

Hermione was too surprised to feel anything but astonishment.

"I know," he smiled grimly, taking in her expression, "who would have thought, eh?"

"Certainly not me," she responded and together they laughed. It was a nervous laughter, uncomfortable and uncertain. Both didn't know what to do.

"McGonagall is Muggleborn," Hermione prompted quietly to him.

"I know." Law looked down where she'd walked away from him. "It was so brief, barely a month, and came out of nowhere. We didn't even do _anything_, really. Only the odd kiss or cuddle. Mostly we just talked. Talked about everything, everything you can think of. Things you could never even mention in Slytherin. It's weird, how even the smallest things can change everything, isn't it, Hermione?" He swallowed. "We're going to have to stop him, aren't we? We have to stop Tom."

"Yes." Her voice was as certain as McGonagall's.

"He cares about you, you know." Law's voice sounded strange, sort of vague. "Not a whole lot, you might think, but he's never cared about anyone in his life and…I think it's rather bothering him. I think he might try open the…"

"The Chamber of Secrets?" she supplied, and he continued on without questioning how she knew.

"…might open the Chamber of Secrets you know, to prove to himself that he's still strong. Still alone. That is, if he's realised how much he does like you."

"_Because I knew you were here. You were here, and I just wanted to be with you."_

He's realised it, Hermione thought darkly.

"Do you think he could open it tonight, Law?"

"No," Law replied. "I don't think he's ready. But he's going to begin letting the – the Basilisk out for a little while sometimes before he opens it fully. He has to prepare, he told us this. Build up the pressure, he said. That means Minerva's in trouble, all the Muggleborn are in trouble, and…I don't think there should be any more trouble, Hermione!"

"There won't be," she said. She felt strong still, and couldn't help thinking of Harry. She felt this was her time to prove herself as a hero at last. "I'm going to stop him."

Law nodded, and believed in her. And she believed in herself. And she was ready.

* * *

Man, what a short chapter. The last one was short too. Sorry. Basically, I'm only sticking this up because it seemed to the most convenient way to as somebody to **beta** for me? Anyone up for the job? I warn you now – I might be an annoying person to work with it. And I'll need a little more help than just grammar, might need to idea bounce or you know, play with wording. And honesty rocks – I love critiques (if they're fair, and nice too)!

Anyway, next few chapters should be long and exciting. The next one will have lots of Tom/Hermione action, where a lot of stuff comes out.

Oh yeah, this chapter isn't properly finished, and I'll probably change a lot of stuff in it. I'll notify you in the next chappie if I do. I think it's a little rushed and all over the shop.

In my personal life, things have gotten better. My friend's grand and I apologise for my emotional outburst, but it helped me and I felt better. I've quit my job and am finished (left with a bang – lots of arguments) and will start writing the next chapter tomorrow morning. So excited to not be working, and school should be okay, Normality, at least. Back with my friends, and getting all the news. I'm starting to feel a little isolated. Things aren't brilliant, but they're fine. Boys are bothering me – I want one, and it's just not happening with either of the two lads I fancy (so close, though!). So I've decided to just give up on them for a while. _They aren't worth the pain! _Honestly, they're worse than period pangs, and more frequent!

Thanks to all reviewers. Especially to **Unspeakable May**. For a while there, I really thought I was going to pack it in. But with that one little phrase, I feel encouraged and it's really stuck with me. To all writers out there, in her wise words: (even those only beginning or think you're rubbish or are only messing with it to waste time): _Dont you ever stop writing because writing is part of who you are, no matter what bad things happened in your life.  
Be aware of that._

That's my new quote for a while. It's so pretty and happy. So Thank you **Unspeakable May. **Thank you to everyone that cheered me up with reviews or just by reading, and I must be greedy and ask you to please keep it up!


	18. The Kisses

_Sorry to PinkTribeChick, who, after having the chapter only two days, I've got so impatient on and have therefore posted it! I'm so sorry for this inconvience! It's just I have the next chapter written, and I won't be allowed on the computer for the next week! Sorry! Smiles sheeplishly_

* * *

"Nobody knows about it. You can't tell anyone, Draco. I can do worse than tell Hermione you fancy her. You know that." Ash spoke casually, her wand in her hand but not pointed. She didn't seem in the least bit anxious or worried, but there was excitement in her pose and ill-disguised glee in her eyes. "I've been watching you, Draco. Ever since you came here. Alright, you're a bit whiny for my liking but…I _do_ like you, and I think you think the same way I do."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's a chamber in this school, the chamber of Salazar Slytherin and, inside-"

"The Chamber of Secrets," he said. "I've heard of it."

She looked a little taken aback, but not discouraged. "Do you know, Draco, that Tom is going to open it? He was going to, back in fifth year. But he wasn't ready then. But he's ready now. Did you know, Draco, that people in the Wizarding World, all Grindlewald's old supporters, have been whispering about Tom for a long time now? They say – they say that he will be the new Dark Lord!"

"You-"

"My parents did not wish for me to be educated. Not at all. I was to marry, but once they heard….well, I was planted here to keep an eye on him, wasn't I? I've watched him grow and become more and more powerful. It's been exciting, knowing what he is probably going to be."

"So you pretended to be in a wheelchair?" He couldn't keep the shock from his voice.

Ash smiled only to patronise at him. "I _was_ in a wheelchair when I was a child, before the Medi-Wizards finally cured me. But it was my mother's idea to pretend I still needed it! It's no secret that people with great power are often the most paranoid. I was thinking ahead, some day Tom will be a lord, and he will think me weak. Nobody could guess-" She sighed. "This is what I've been born to do. There's word of a prophecy, but that's only speculation. It mentions a girl who will change everything, and I think it to be me."

"Or Hermione." He was smug.

She scowled, and looked again at Draco. "She has been interfering, definitely. He hasn't been thinking about _anything_ lately, but the plain, little witch! Why does he even like her? I always thought, after a little while, Tom and I…"

Draco stood up from his bed at last, and she raised her wand a little higher, but not at him completely. "I'm bored of this. Tom has never shown the slightest bit of interest in you. Either have I. Leave me."

"I want your help. I want you to make Hermione fall in love with you."

"If you thought I could do that, don't you think I would have already tried?"

"Have you?" she demanded. "Have you ever told her? Only I think she has some feelings for you, if she ever was clever enough to realise them!"

"This is just ridiculous!" He felt himself getting angry. He wanted her to go.

"I need you to make Hermione fall in love with you, or otherwise I will have to kill her myself."

Draco stared at her, and stopped moving.

"Don't think I couldn't do it." Two ugly red blotches appeared on Ash's cheeks. "I am not letting my parents down, just because of her! There is nothing special about her! Tom is too good for her! You are too good for her! And I will kill her, if she remains in my way!"

"…Guys?" Law had obviously waken up.

Ash stormed over to his bed and, without hesitation, knocked him unconscious with an easy spell. She returned to Draco, breathing heavily, and glared at him. Draco didn't know why she was so angry.

Draco glared right back at her. As if she were an eagle over a mouse, she swooped down on him and kissed him hardly. Draco, still somewhat confused and angry and annoyed, found himself kissing her back. He tried not to think about Hermione. But he did. It made him kiss Ash harder.

* * *

She had turned somewhat different. She knew that. But she knew she was a somewhat good person. Not as perfect as she might have believed, but she wanted no deaths. She wanted no innocent people to die. She needed to stop Tom. It wasn't just a matter of right and wrong in the world anymore, it was the balance of right and wrong inside of her. If she managed to stop Tom, she could forget about all those little sins, couldn't she? Was that how these things worked?

She sat outside the tap where she knew the entrance to the Chamber resided. She didn't know if Tom was in there, or whether he would come. All she could was wait. She wasn't quite sure what she was going to do. She just knew she had to stop him.

"Hermione, what a pleasant surprise." His voice was smooth and fluid. She rose from her sitting place to meet him on an equal level. She couldn't help looking at him, and noticing again just how good-looking he was. So much darkness, in such a pretty parcel. It seemed almost ironic. Hair as dark as his eyes, smooth almost wax like. Skin paler than Draco's, and as perfect. Not a tint of colour there, just creamy white. He stood tall, a pleasant build. His voice was smooth, and as soft as dead leaves falling. Not a trace of a threat. His lips were curved into a smile, a smile that crinkled his opaque eyes.

"I've been waiting for you." It was a stupid thing for her to say, really. Why else would she have been sitting in this wet, abandoned bathroom? Still, she didn't want him to have any doubts.

"How do you know?" He didn't sound angry or worried, just keenly interested and quite pleased.

"Law. When I had him under my control for the day. I made him take a truth potion. He let all spill."

"Ah," he stepped forward. "Salazar himself would be proud. Good girl, Hermione." Was he mocking her? It didn't seem so. He seemed impressed, and happy for her. He raised a hand and touched her cheek – a surprisingly tender move – just once. "Were you always so suspicious of me?"

"Not suspicious," she said. She found that she was looking at him lips but knew looking at his eyes was perhaps more dangerous. "Just interested."

He laughed. A real laugh. So high pitched. It didn't suit him. It sent shivers up her spine. She took a step back, away from him.

"How much do you know, so? The Chamber of Secrets?"

In confirmation of his question, she asked, "Have you let the Basilisk out yet?"

He took a step forward and, without even meaning to, she took a step backwards.

"I was just about to. It's getting restless." He observed her closely.

"So it hasn't killed anyone yet?"

"No." A pause. "Such a clever girl, and so pretty too."

"I'm not!" Hermione could never accept a compliment. She felt that the situation was going out of her control.

He smiled, and ignored her protest. "I'm so glad you know, Hermione. I've been only dieing to tell you. In due time, I told myself. I wanted you to be proud of me. Are you proud of me?"

"No," she snarled, unable to keep the anger from her voice.

"Ah." He didn't seem too disturbed. "I thought that might be the case." He smiled again at her fondly. "Despite everything, you're only a little girl, aren't you? I saw it when I kissed you and you began crying. You're good, and bad, at the same time, aren't you? Just enough to keep me intrigued."

She took a step away from him again and hit against the wall. Cornered. How could she have been so silly? She should have remembered that wall was there. A hint of desperation burst inside her, and she raised her wand before he could take that final step. "Don't come too close, Tom. I mean it."

"I know you do." He didn't stop smiling, and he took that final step, walking into her wand and pushing it back against her. His eyes still on hers, he took her hand holding the wand and pulled her clenched fingers from it smoothly, until the wand fell to the floor, falling with a splash into a small shallow of water. She only attempted to stun him when she must have known it was too late.

He watched her eyes widen and shushed her. "It's okay. Look." He took his wand out and she looked from him to it. Then he dropped it too and it landed beside hers, but not in the puddle. She didn't really know what he was playing at, so remained quiet.

"Why did you come here, Hermione?" he said, still so close.

"I'm here to stop you opening the Chamber of Secrets." There was no point in lying to him.

"Oh, yes?"

"Tom, you have to." She looked beseechingly into his eyes and tried to reach the piece of humanity she knew was in there, somewhere, but as usual, all she could see in his eyes was darkness. "Just put off releasing the Basilisk until-"

"Until you change my mind?" He was breathing quickly, a little more so than normal, and his eyes were glinting at her almost savagely. He was excited.

"Yes," she replied, but she was scared. Because she knew what he wanted.

"What do you have in mind?" He used his wand hand to brush a lose strand of her hair from her face, behind her ear.

Hermione didn't know. No, she was lying to herself. _She did know_. She just didn't have a response.

So she kissed him.

Because that was what he wanted. And she had to give it to him. And she knew part of her was rejoicing. But most of her was just crying. Crying for so much of her that she'd lost. Crying because she hated what she had become, hated what she was prepared to do, not just to save innocent people anymore, but to save Tom Riddle.

* * *

"Will you help me?" Ash breathed. Darkness surrounded them. Draco realised he was somewhat weak when it came to women.

"Yes."

Ash smiled and kissed him again.

"And the ball?" she questioned.

"Yes."

So Draco was going to the ball with Ash. Who would have thought? Certainly not him. He was hoping to go with Hermione, but that didn't seem possible anymore. The ball poster had only been put up barely a week ago and already most of the school were speculating on it. Draco hadn't really been thinking about it, since so much had been happening.

He supposed Hermione would be going with Tom, anyway. She really didn't know what she was getting herself into, did she? Something flickered through him, and made him kiss Ash again. Not a nice kiss, harsh and ungentle. Ash seemed to like it though. He didn't really care much for Ash though, and he knew what he was feeling now was jealousy.

* * *

Tom had her wand, and he was taking her to the ball.

She had somehow managed to get away from him. She had somehow gotten herself dressed and into bed. She somehow had gotten a bit of sleep. And she had somehow got herself up in the morning and gotten ready for classes.

She found her hair so easy to manage now. It was strange. And she'd taken to stealing little bits of Sally's makeup and applying light layers. It made her feel a little better in the morning, that and a cup of black coffee (instead of her usual milky tea!) She always returned Sally's makeup at the end of the day, so no harm done.

The ball was tonight, and Tom was taking her! She hadn't even thought of it, actually. A ball, she hadn't really thought of going. So much had happened last night! It seemed like it had gone on for days. It was a Hogsmeade day today, and she knew that she would have to buy a new dress robe for it. But how would she know what robe to buy?

* * *

So, she needed his help again.

_Draco,_

_I think we should meet up. It feels like I haven't talked to you in some time. Do you need to buy new robes for tonight? I need to! I need your help, I suppose! Owl me back!_

_Hermione_

He had actually been thinking of catching up on his studies, and having a well-deserved lie in. But she did need his help, or who knows what she'd turn up in. He could just see her in a startling, over-the-top robe of red and gold, her old House colours, and not even realising it.

He would like to see her again and, after a short reply (_Okay, see you at the gate at twelve_), he began to work on his hair.

* * *

She met up with him, wearing some pretty dark robes he'd picked out for her. Her hair was perfect, and he couldn't help but smirk at the difference from before. How had she not been ashamed of it? How had she not thought of caring for it before? She was wearing makeup as well, which was a strange but not unwelcome change. He'd seen it on her yesterday as well, but today, she seemed to have made a little effort. Dark grey eye shadow, her eyelashes seemed longer, and her lips fuller and with more colour. She looked well.

He tried not to look too hard at her.

She chatted about classes and homework as if she was completely at ease and normal. But there was something in her tone, which told him all was not well but he could ask nothing while so many students were around. Being in her presence felt strange. He wasn't comfortable, but not unhappy.

He followed her to the robe shops, and leafed through the robes, trying to find a perfect robe for her. He couldn't find anything. He wanted to see her looking magnificent. She watched him, knowing she would be more of a hindrance than a help. He gave her some to try on, but shook his head at them all, saying they weren't quite right.

They met Ash and Sally robe shopping too. After a little idle chat, they departed. Ash winked at him, as if this was all about a conspiracy between them.

Finally, when they'd both been ready to pack it in, Draco found it. Perfect. He gave it to her to try on, but he knew it was what he'd been looking for. She stepped out of the fitting room, and he caught his breath. Magnificent would be an understatement to describe the robe. It was blood red, an expensive fabric, and the whole thing had a rather regal look about it. It was very flowy for a robe, almost more like a dress than anything else. It slipped down her shoulders naturally, showing pale, skinny shoulders. Perfect. He paid, both knowing she did not have the money.

They went inside the Leaky cauldron next, exhausted from their shopping, where they knew not many students would be around, and he ordered two butterbeers while she sat and minded the table. He paid. She thanked him and sipped it. He took two great gulps, then sat it down and asked her what was wrong.

"Always to the point, aren't you, Draco?"

"And you are using the Slytherin tactic of answering a question with a question. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Is there something wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he replied, and the two sat in silence.

They kept keeping secrets from each other. He had kept some from her. He couldn't tell her about Ash. But he didn't want to lie to her anymore.

"Hermione," he asked lowly, aware of the some customers who were around them, "were you having weird dreams before you came here?"

She looked at him sharply. "Yes," she answered, almost immediately.

All thoughts of balls left both their heads. "The Dark Lord," he told her, almost whispering. "was ordering Blaise Zabini to slip you a potion. This potion let him control your dreams. It can do you no harm except, with excessive amounts, it could drive you mad. But he wasn't giving you enough to do that. It was just one dosage, at breakfast. Which meant you'd have one of his controlled dreams a night."

It took her a minute to absorb this. "Why would he want to do that?"

"I don't know. I think – I think he was trying to draw you here. Were the dreams about – about _Tom_?"

She swallowed, and nodded.

"He let me run. I've been thinking about this a lot, Hermione. When I ran from him and my father just before we came here, he let me run. He didn't tell the Death Eaters to catch me, he used no magic, he just let me run. It's as if he knew where I was going."

"This doesn't make sense! You think – you think Voldemort knew what we were at? And he wanted us to do it?"

"I'm saying that he remembers you and me! From when he was in seventh year!"

"But….how? We hadn't gone back yet!"

"Yes, we had!" he said. "This is the past, remember! And that's the future!"

She took more time thinking about this, taking delicate sips from her drink while Draco watched her. "I suppose that makes sense," she said finally. "But, then, that means…?"

"That Voldemort wanted us to come back here. Which means, we must do something that – that he wants us to do."

"Bad, rather than good," she said, staring at him with horrified eyes.

He nodded and watched her, as she put in her head into her hands, face full of lines and exhaustion.

"We're stuck here now," she said. "We don't know how to get back! How could we – I- have been so foolish? What are we going to do?"

Draco shrugged helplessly. How could they change something that they'd already done? Perhaps they would come to this conclusion and it would make them do worse! It had all been done sixty years back from their normal time. It made Draco's head spin.

They left the pub in silence, Hermione clutching the bag, which held her new robe. They walked side by side, both lost in thought. It was only as they could see Hogwarts in the distance that he turned to look at her and saw she was crying.

"Hermione-"

"I've screwed everything up," she cried, turning to him fully.

"No-"

She wouldn't let him finish.

"I have!" she said. "I really have! What have I done! I should have known better than to mess with time! It saved Sirius, but he was innocent! I should have known better – Tom _isn't_ innocent! How can I feel this way about him? I don't understand, and I'm so scared!"

He hadn't a clue what she was talking about. "Look-"

"I'm so angry too!" she ranted. "I can't believe I've done all the things that I've done! I can't believe I've been so stupid! I brought back one enemy to help me fight another, and it hasn't achieved anything! It's all just such a-"

He kissed her. Just to shut her up. No other reason. One quick, untender kiss. Just to startle her into silence.

It was over in a few seconds. He still kept her grasped by her shoulders, but held her away from him. "Will you just shut up for a minute and let me speak-"

She didn't. Instead she looked at him with oddly helpless eyes, and, before he even realised what was happening, she had kissed him. And it was the complete opposite of the other one. Where that one had been harsh, this was gentle. Where that one hadn't been full of any real feeling apart from anger, this one was. Where that one had lacked in closeness, this one was full of it, the two grasping on to each other as if their lives depended on it.

Where that one had only lasted a brief few seconds, this one seemed to go on for ages and ages, and Draco couldn't remember when he'd felt more free.

Some moments change everything, from the whole situation to the very core of who you are. There are some big moments that change who you are and who you will. Some moments can change your whole life. This was one of those moments forboth Draco and Hermione.

* * *

Two people watched the kiss. One was laughing gleefully, thinking her plan had worked. Draco had made her plan work, and was working on Hermione. Good for him too! It was lucky that the other had been in time to see it! So perfectly timed, like Draco had had it all planned. She wouldn't be surprised if he had, an impressive boy like that. She would have to ask him later at the ball.

The other watched and felt an inhumane rage soar through him. Eyes narrowed, and flashed a blood red. Power crackled from his bare hands, and he'd never felt so raw and primal in his life.

Some moments change everything, from the whole situation to the very core of who you are. There are some big moments that change who you are and who you will. Some moments can change your whole life. This was one of those moments for Tom Marvolo Riddle.

* * *

_Another AN rant, but I'll try keep it short. I liked this chapter. Sorry that the last two chapters were sort of all over the place and short. School sucks. Anyone that read "Because of You" will know why I haven't updated sooner, but I'm okay. The thing about a tragedy like that is that it tends to bring people closer together, and make you realise how much you do care for people. You got to take care of people – **don't ever take anyone for granted**!_

_The next chapter is quite good, the best one yet! I'll have it up soon, in a week say. I'll try for next Monday!_

_Thanks for the last chapter:_

_**The Dragon Sorceress:** Thanks a lot!_

_**Serinaty **– I don't really know what this is, to be honest. But, yes, it has Tom/Hermione and Draco/Hermione.  
_

_**Fantasicarla **- Thanks for the cool review! I like to keep things twist-y. So that's probably one of the biggest compliments you could give me. I'd hate – out of everything – for one of my stories to be boring._

_**Poke-the-sleeping-dragon** – Thanks for the continued support:o)_

_**BabyGooGoo2** – Well, I figure supposedly Hermione and Draco are always running off having secret affairs. Why wouldn't that happen with other Slytherins and Gryffindors? Wouldn't it be more exciting back at this time, where it would probably be frowned upon even more? Anyway thanks, glad you didn't mind that twist._

_**Natyslacks** – What a lovely review! Thank you!_

_**Unspeakable Mae** – Thanks again! _

_**CareBearErin** – Were you? That was sort of an impulsive move for me. But then I said, why not? Glad you were glad._

_**Frangipani Chic** – Thank you for your nice words!_

_**PrincessBitterHeart** – I recognise your penname all right, so maybe you have! I've never seen that movie. I wouldn't know how other authors write Hermione/Tom. I've only taken to reading the odd one after being half way through this story. Authors tend not to finish the story either, I've NEVER found a complete Hermione/Tom story._

_**Sailor Moon Rose** – Now, thank you for not minding my ranting. Yeah, I like to rant. But it's really good therapy. So yeah. If anything ever dramatic happens in my life, readers will here about it, through either an AN or a one-shot._

_**Froggifrog** – Thanks for the review!_

_**HollyH** – I just went, to be fair, with the first person who asked, so I think that's all settled. I'm so not a beat person though – it's driving me mad! The poor girls only had the chapter for an hour and I'm only itching to post it anyway! What am I like? Hehe_

_**ElementalDragon1** – Thanking you most kindly._

_**Lisi **– Glad to know you're still around, girl!_

_**Alenor** – Thank you! I always look forward to your reviews!_

_**Illyria-light** – Always be honest. It helps. Yeah, that chapter was bad. I knew it myself. But I'm quite happy with this chapter. Things have sort of been all over the place for me, but I put some proper time and effort (and length!) into this chapter! And I got it Beta read! _

_**Ptrst** – Yeah, that's the thing with Law, right in one. But you'll have to see. Glad you're so enthusiastic about the story. I thought it'd be just fairer to just sue the first person that asked! Sorry! I would have just asked you, had I been clever. But I'm not. Anyway, hope you liked this chappie!_

_**Renyun** – There's some Draco/Hermione for you. I admit, I'm finding Tom/Hermione more interesting. But they haven't really grown apart. It's my fault, because I updated such short chapters, but if you look back, you'll see the last couple of chapters only spaced over a short period of time, like a day. So Draco and Hermione had seen each other only shortly before. But thanks for your opinion, it made me add the Hermione/Draco kiss a little quicker than I had planned to._

_**PinkTribeChick** – Sorry, again!_

_**Hermione Charlotte Granger** – But this chapter wasn't too short! To make up for it?_

_**Seghen** – I thought this chapter was really dramatic, actually. It's weird, because the thing is I'm NOT really emotional. Like, I never cry. I get quick flares of anger but I'm never really, really depressed or like deliriously happy. I get over things easily. But when I'm writing, it's like I let it all out. It's cool, it helps. And I've just realised I've been ranting and I'm such a weirdo, but never mind, eh?_

_**ShimmeringWater **– I hope you're still around. Sorry I couldn't update sooner._

_And don't forget to tell me what you think of this chapter! In a review, of course. A nice, long one! Yeah!_


	19. The Hunger

She wasn't Hermione Zabini when she was in his arms. She was Hermione Granger, and he craved her more than he'd ever craved anything before. She was plain old Granger, a know-it-all who just wanted to save the world. He knew she'd changed, but that just interested him more. Because he knew the truth, something even Tom hadn't guessed yet. Hermione was different from what they all thought, and Draco was the only one who really knew her.

She was just Granger. She shouldn't even have come back here. This was too tough a decade for her. Slytherin house was just too rough.

Draco fought down the protests that nibbled at him insistently – hadn't she coped extremely well? Hadn't she inter-mixed with the Slytherins perhaps even better than himself? Hadn't she risen to the challenge spectacularly?

But that didn't matter. He'd always known she had balls, ever since that day in third year when she'd slapped him across the face. He just admired her all the more for said balls. It didn't mean he had to stop wanting to protect her. Ash was thinking of killing her, and Hermione hadn't a clue.

And he couldn't quite believing Hermione Granger or Hermione Zabini was kissing him right now. It was like nothing mundane, and he couldn't quite grasp the concept. It was amazing he could even think at all, the mind-blowing sensations of it all.

The kiss broke, and they stared at each other. He wasn't sure what she was thinking. He was seeing everything in a dazed light, feeling as if he'd drank a couple more fire-whiskeys than was safe or clever. Giddiness fluttered in his chest, along with excitement and a desperate, immediate wish to kiss her again.

"Malfoy…" she breathed, still close but not quite as in his arms as he would have wished.

"Granger…"

It was the wrong thing to say. Darkness pooled in her eyes and the trance seemed to have broken. "A Granger and a Malfoy?" she said bemusedly after a quick break of silence, smiling grimly.

"Why not?" He offered out his hand to her.

She stared at that hand, that hand he always seemed to be offering to her. It was a symbol of something so much more important – important and exciting and nice and an end to the loneliness and uncertainty that had plagued her, ever since she'd entered Hogwarts when she was eleven years old. At the end of the day, Hermione _Granger _had never had a boyfriend, and had spent many, many hours wishing for one. Like many a girl, even though she never would have admitted it to herself.

And Malfoy was nice. He hadn't always been. He was immature and could be a prick and Ron and Harry would never like him. But he'd been nice to her here, giving her odd reassurances and silent support when she'd needed it the most. He'd risked his life to come back sixty years into the Past. Yes, maybe his motives hadn't always been very honourable but, in the end, they now were. He'd suffered through Dumbledore's death and couldn't hack it. He wasn't a killer. He'd ran to where he knew she was, and they'd gone back on this pointless endeavour to save the future.

He'd ran to where he'd known she was…How curious. Had he, in fact, been feeling such feelings for her all that time back?

She stared at the hand, and then, still smiling sadly, she looked at him, turned on her heel and walked away from him.

It was strange, but it was more painful than she would have thought. An endless list of possibilities went through her mind – she and Draco could have had some fun. Mindless, innocent fun. She could see a life where, if things were different, she could have one day really, really liked him. Perhaps loved him.

A quick flash. Of sitting on wet grass beside him, looking out at lakes, soft in his arms. Up on a broom, gripping on to him, terrified but somehow protected. Of competing against his good-naturedly in class, smiling teasingly over at him as she rose her hand yet again. Of laughing, crying, smiling and being with him. Of kissing him with all the gentleness of that last kiss, and knowing that he was hers, and she was his.

But that was from a completely different world now. Maybe if they'd discovered each other properly back in their own time.

But not now. Things were too messed up now.

She had Tom to worry about.

And she wasn't at all sure a thing such as a Malfoy and a Granger getting together was even possible.

Of course, when she hadn't been thinking about Tom, she'd thought about Draco. But it had been a mere daydream. She would never have thought he'd ever like her – wasn't he much too good for her? Hadn't he, anyway, always thought that? She was a Muggleborn, after all. Or maybe he'd got caught into her own trap and both had convinced themselves that she was actually Hermione Zabini, a pureblood and a perfect match for a young man such as himself.

Tears were building in her eyes, but she would not cry. She had too much to deal with at the moment, and Draco would be okay. Hermione Zabini now had a ball to attend to. With Tom. Pretty much at his mercy, without her wand. Pretty much being blackmailed so he wouldn't open the Chamber of Secrets. Pretty much helpless, in the smooth hands of the potential Dark Lord who, unbeknownst to her, was extremely angry at this current moment, all because of her.

But, she thought, at least there was one bright side. Her dress was extremely pretty. And so, she kept walking away, leaving Draco standing completely alone in the blinding sunlight, blinking away any wetness that might have occurred.

* * *

Ash grinned at him in greeting. Draco had stood there in the spot where Hermione had left him for a long time until feeling had come back. Now, all he could feel was her lips, and her rejection. His hand felt numb, the one he'd offered to her. He was gutted and upset and tired. He didn't know how it had gotten so far. One second he thought he might have feelings for Hermione but he was completely in control over the situation. The next second, now, he knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing was in his control, not anymore. He realised that now; it really was blatantly obvious. 

Ash wasn't really all that plain, anyway.

Those multi-coloured eyes watched him face very, very closely.

He didn't grin back at her. Instead he just pressed her close and kissed her. After a minute, she kissed him back. It wasn't a nice kiss, nothing like when he'd been with Hermione. But it was all he could get, and he thought of her all the while.

* * *

The music played in the background. One of Sally's bands. Hermione had always thought of her as a bit of a pop-princess wannabe. But apparently Sally wasn't into more acoustic style music, and the gentle but somewhat strikingly painful guitar strings and the voice of a broken man echoed around the room. Hermione sat there on the bed, while Sally applied her makeup, and felt oddly peaceful, but still a bit sad for general reasons. 

Sally had asked to do her makeup. Apparently, Sally had known that Hermione had been stealing little bits of her makeup. "I hadn't minded," Sally said easily. "You could have just asked me though. I would have done it for you. No offence or anything," This was said as if to emphasise her offence more, "but you can't put it on too well. No matter, we'll have you looking better in a little while. Just give me time."

Hermione half-listened to her. Her mind was elsewhere. Little traces of thoughts with no real meaning. Her mind was more on the music than anything else. Odd lines struck at her, and the gentle beat seemed as if it belonged to her heart.

"There!" Sally stepped back and examined her. Hermione examined Sally too. The black robe was a little boring for Hermione's liking. So clichéd Slytherin. Hermione wondered whether she would be the only girl from her house wearing such a bright colour. But certainly Draco would have known this, so why had he picked it out for her? Sally looked as plain as always, and Hermione hoped her makeup wasn't quite so bland.

One look in the mirror told Hermione she needn't have worried. Black smoky eyes, slightly rosy cheeks, and lips that exact same vivid shade as her dress. Even with her frumpy school jumper and wrinkled skirt, she looked great.

Her mind still on the music, she slipped into her robe. Sally began exclaiming about it, eyes wide and admiring. Hermione felt like a queen in it, someone to be respected and admired.

There was a pecking on the window. Hermione fluidly moved towards it to let the large fluttering owl in. He delivered a thin package and a crisp white envelop with the name _Hermione_ written on it in loopy tiny writing, and left. Ignoring Sally's questioning, she moved to pick up it, going for the letter first. It read:

_Hermione,_

_Enclosed is a special present, just for you. I hope it goes with your robe._

_Wear it. I have kept my side of the bargain so far. Are you ready to keep yours?_

_Tonight will be fun._

_Always,_

_Tom_

Mind nowhere near the music now, she could barely hear it now, Hermione picked up the package, immaculately wrapped. She felt a sudden prick of fear but, realising that she was being silly and that Tom would have no reason to send her either of poisonous snake or some kind of lethally exploding object worthy of the Weasley twins, she opened it.

A beautiful, gold necklace dropped to the bed.

"Oh my God," Sally gasped in the distance.

Hermione's breathing was restricted. She picked it up numbly and looked at it. It was beautiful, yet somewhat simple at the same time. The chain was craved with perfection in twirling designs and, although it was sparkling in the sun from her window, the design had an almost ancient and enchanting look about it. It met in a round, small circle of gold, which, without really thinking about it, she knew was a symbol for everlasting.

Sally tied the back for her, prattling about it. Hermione didn't hear a word of Sally's prattle. She was staring transfixed at her reflection. The prefect Slytherin queen; ironically dressed in vivid Gryffindor colours.

* * *

Ash would have looked nice in light green robes. She would have looked lovely in any pastel colours, something bright and pretty. Instead she wore black; the colour that was presumed for her. Ash knew her place. She knew what was expected. She had no wish to change the colour of her robe. She didn't think it boring, just practical. 

Draco dressed in the same colour, a strong contrast with his pale white skin and hair. The two of them looked startling pale in their almost grieve-like clothes. Neither of them pointed this out, but both thought it mildly.

"Are you ready?" She took his arm and he led her down to the Grand Hall. They were silent the whole way, one lost in thought about a certain girl, the other one calculating carefully. Ash's parents had written to her only yesterday, urging her to do something before it was too late.

Dumbledore met them at the door. He winked especially at Draco and smiled widely. Ash scowled at him. Silly old man. What was he smiling about? Her parents were right, he was definitely a weirdo. But once she went into the Grand Hall, the last thing she was thinking of was Dumbledore.

* * *

"Hermione…" Tom's eyes roved over her, hungrily. His hand stretched out in her direction but didn't touch her. He seemed at a loss for words, unable to even think to do anything else but stare at her. His eyes were wide and large, and reflecting light back at her. 

Once the evident surprise was over, approval flared in those dark pits, and his lips quirked upwards. He moved towards her in one fluid moment, eyes still taking her in. He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and she basked in his attention. Hermione had never felt beautiful; she'd never been anything to look at. Her brains and strong personality had been her strong points; her looks not a hindrance to someone like her. Now, however, she felt as if she was perfect in his eyes. It was a confidence boost and she smiled graciously back at him.

He was so handsome in his clean-cut robe. Expensive and dark, he reminded her of a James Bond kind of character. Hair neat and tidy, and skin totally faultless. She would have been jealous of his beauty, had she not felt that she had her own. He didn't look as cool as normal, completely in awe of her.

She was delighted.

They were quite a pair.

"Ready for some fun, then?" she taunted at his awe, and took his arm. He led her down to the Grand Hall. They were silent the whole way, one lost in thought about a certain girl, the other one calculating carefully. Calculating about what she ought to do tonight, and about the drama that was bound to unfold.

The first dance passed easily enough. He held her in his arms lightly. They were pleasant, chatting idly. Only his dark flames for eyes told her what darkness was bound to erupt, and his lips had a smug line about them she wasn't sure of. Still, she laughed and kept quiet and listened and smiled in all the right places, and he was the perfect partner. He led their dance with controlling arms and carefully timed steps. She, who knew very little of dancing and had spent most of the Hogwarts balls plotting mischief with Harry and Ron or giggling on the floor with Ginny, knew little of proper dancing. But together they danced well, moving almost simultaneously.

The first slow dance was a little scarier. He pulled her close, so close. The melody was simple and sad, the piano accompaniment haunting and the female vocalist's voice trembled with emotion. She sang of love and, although Hermione's eyes were on Tom's, she found herself wondering where Draco was and whom he had brought to the ball.

She danced some more with Tom, but her heart continued to beat somewhat erratically. She felt a little sleepy and, without really meaning to, put her head on his chest and leaned against him. They were barely moving now and the melody seemed to stop and restart at some points.

He took her chin in his fingers and raised her head slightly to where he had lowered his own. His fingers released her chin and swept in a touch as soft as feathers over her lips. She trembled, but did not draw back. She was ready for it when he kissed her. Right there on the floor. With everyone watching them.

* * *

Draco had been one of the first in with Ash but, to both their pleasures, neither of them was that bothered to dance and sat in the darkest corner, carefully watching all their fellow students. 

"She looks well, doesn't she? Hermione, I mean." Ash watched his response very carefully as she pointed in the direction and Draco followed with his eyes.

Well was such an understatement it was laughable. Hermione looked beyond beautiful. Once such a plain, insignificant-looking girl, Draco could only wonder at how such a change had happened so subtly. A thought was provoked: What would have happened if Hermione had been sorted into Slytherin back when she was eleven years old? Would she be like this now? Or worse?

If only she'd been born with pure blood.

She danced with Tom and nobody else. She seemed to be enjoying herself, sparkling up at Tom and letting him hold her close. They were the talk of the ball; everyone was gossiping about that new girl and Riddle.

"If you care to drag away your eyes from your dearest Hermione," Ash said scornfully, "you might see Law and Sally have entered."

Draco turned to see them. Sally looked dark with her brown hair, sallow skin and black robe. Law, beside her, looked like a Canada flag – with his red hair and white skin – in comparison, and terribly out of place. He looked around the room nervously as if he was searching for somebody. Draco wondered whom. The only person he could think of was Tom, and Tom was plainly in view.

Draco turned to see Hermione again. A slow song had started up. Hermione's back was to him, her head hidden in Tom's chest. Tom was looking over her shoulder straight at Draco. Black eyes met silver, both flared, and then Tom, with precise, exaggerated movements; eyes still on Draco's, raised Hermione's dazed face towards his and, after a moment of purposeful contemplation, kissed her.

* * *

It was a fast dance. She still had very little rhythm but Tom always kept her close and always guided her. His hands weren't around her now, but on her hips. Hers were on his shoulders. Her face was pointed towards his, his lowered. Their lips were levelled but they didn't kiss again. 

He was smiling. Obviously enjoying tonight. Enjoying her company. He never once took his eyes off her, drinking her in almost greedily. She felt like she was the only girl in the world.

"I don't want you to dance with any other boy this evening," he had told her. "I want you to be all mine." He hadn't mentioned anything about the Chamber or any sort of threat, but it was all present in his face and she nodded.

But Draco knew of no such bargain. He came up and said jovially, "Tom, if you wouldn't mind…" gesturing towards Ash, who waited expectantly.

It was an awkward minute. Tom's eyes burned into Hermione but there was nothing she could do. She knew he wanted to say no, but that wasn't how things like that worked in Pureblood society. He had no choice and, eyes still burning into her, she switched from Tom's warm arms and into Draco's cool ones.

But, once there, she found herself forgetting about Tom's burning eyes when looking into such silver ones. Had so much changed between them? Now that Hermione knew he was interested in her…Was she really interested in Draco Malfoy?

There must be something wrong with her taste in men. She must go seeking for the most trouble she could find. Then again, it explained her choice in friends in Ron and Harry and, on a lesser extreme, cheeky Ginny.

Even before Hermione had gone back into the past, her life had never been easy.

"You look handsome," she told him, smilingly.

"Nothing compares to you. Everyone's talking about you. You're the belle of the ball." The song switched on to a slower number. Tom broke away from Ash expectantly. Draco pretended not to see him and swished her away. Hermione saw Tom rejoin with Ash reluctantly before looking back to Draco.

Draco did look very handsome tonight. She knew that, back at Hogwarts in their original time, he was considered a bit of a "hunk", but Hermione had never seen it. She'd often wondered where the attraction was. She'd repeated herself often to Ginny about how his nose was too pointed, his frame too skinny, himself too short, his hair too colourless, to have any sort of effect on her.

When she'd gotten older and a little less prejudice, she'd grudgingly admitted he wasn't bad looking. But, even until recently, she'd never been excited at the mere prospect of looking at him, like Lavender had been known to be. Once she'd started her mission with him and began to see him as a real person, she'd seen some good characteristics in him, like the fact that his teeth were white and perfectly symmetrical (Her parents _were_ dentists!), his skin never contained one blemish, and his hair, when one knew him well enough to touch it, was impossibly silky and well cared for.

But now, he looked extremely handsome. Not impossibly beautiful like Tom. Not enough to rend her speechless. But enough for her to wonder what he could ever see in a girl like her and to know that, in more appropriate times, she would have been honoured to dance with him, if they hadn't had all their history.

"Who are you here with?" she asked him, still smiling. Letting herself have a little fun. She didn't want to think of darker things, just yet, but worry was clawing at her beneath this fragile façade.

"Ash."

Hermione frowned.

"Don't frown, it'll spoil the look," he teased. Seeing that her frown didn't ease, he prompted, "What's wrong?"

"I didn't know you were such good friends." She hated the _tang_ of bitterness in her voice. The slight but so evident possessiveness she now felt over him that was completely ridiculous.

"Are you jealous?" He was amused. She didn't appreciate the laughter that was obviously coming at her expense.

"Have you kissed her?" She sounded like a sulky child and this time he let the laughter out, a deep laugh, nothing like Tom's high pitched – well, that was neither here nor there, really. She shook her head to clear it.

"Yes," he told her honestly. He didn't tell her that, when kissing Ash, he'd always thought of only her. He didn't tell her that he didn't have one romantic notion including Ash. He didn't tell her that she was the only girl he thought of these days, and that that had been the way for a while now. He didn't tell her quite how much he did admire her. He didn't really think it necessary. Would she even care to know?

She went to pull away from him. He didn't let her, couldn't let her. He didn't want her to go back to Tom, all because of something as silly as Ash.

"Does it matter? Honestly, Hermione, I saw you kissing Tom just there." He smiled down at her, and her frown eased slightly. "Don't be silly now. We're the same, you and me. It doesn't mean anything."

That was wrong and they both knew it. They did care. They'd always cared. Both had never been indifferent and callous. Draco did care if Hermione and Tom kissed. Hermione did care if she and Tom kissed. They both cared if _they_ kissed, and Hermione did indeed care if Draco was kissing Ash, although she wasn't completely sure why. Hadn't she walked away from his offer?

"It can't happen now," she told him delicately. "There's too much stuff going on. But…"

"But?" he said, and tried to pretend to himself that her words were making him deliriously happy.

"But I didn't say no." She returned his smile at last. "I don't want to say no. I don't want not to care. But we can pretend it's like that for a while, can't we? Until things get a little easier."

"More pretence," he sighed. "Don't you ever wonder when it'll all end?"

"I do," she replied. "I think it'll be soon."

* * *

She was back in Tom's arms. She wanted to keep more of an eye on Draco and Ash, but she couldn't. It was, after all, extremely hard work to focus on anything other than Tom when in his company.

But even she had noticed the looks Law had been sending McGonagall all night. And she couldn't help but smile when she saw McGonagall finally come and join Law for his much-deserved dance. The music was perfect too – the boy and girl of the band (The Magicks, they were named supposedly. Tom wasn't too keen on them, though) A sad song, the girl was singing to the boy that she was sorry she couldn't forgive him. Hermione couldn't really watch the pair for long; Tom had drawn her close again.

* * *

"You look beautiful," Law told her. It wasn't a lie. He believed so. But the truth was, Minerva McGonagall could never be beautiful. She was wearing conservative robes of cream, and her hair was up in a tight bun. She didn't particularly like her hair up, but Law had told her it suited her. When she thought of him, she put it up. A silent tribute.

"So do you," she replied. Also not true. Law was much too lanky and freckly to be ever called beautiful. Even handsome would be an exaggeration. His eyes, although a nice shade of blue, were too small and insignificant to save his face from the brand: tolerable. Grand. Okay. All right in his own way.

Both were not beautiful. But they were both completely mad about each other.

"It's only for tonight," she told him, willing him to understand. "We can't get back together. We're not back together. But I- I just needed to dance with you tonight."

He tried desperately not to stand on her toes,and he understood what she was saying. They were too different, it was too difficult, and they were all too young. But there was something special between them, something that had helped him grow into a better person, and, as he danced with her in what felt like the sweetest dance of his life, he knew he would always be grateful to her for that.

* * *

"Does that make you angry?" Tom asked her now. "Seeing them together, a Pureblood and a Mudblood. Does that make your blood boil?"

Maybe she was just sick of the pretending now. Tired, she answered him with a question. "Does it really matter? It's only a dance."

"Hmmm…it doesn't matter anyway, does it? Not anymore." His face wasn't as pale anymore. For him, he was flushed. Excited. Eager. He obviously had something to tell her.

Her anxiety grew rapidly. "What do you mean?"

"We had a deal, Hermione. You told me you'd change my mind not to open the Chamber of Secrets. But you haven't. You ran off last night before…before I was happy. You spent all day with Draco today. I watched you kiss him. I told you I wanted you all to myself tonight. You haven't been. While you were dancing with lover boy, I-"

"You what?" All she could feel now was dread.

"I let the Basilisk out, Hermione," he whispered. "It would have been cruel not to. He just needs one night-time walk."

"No…"

"Yes." He seemed pleased with her dread, leaning closer to see it fully. He was smiling gleefully, and strange lights danced in his eyes.

"How could you, Tom?" she gasped. She'd gone weak in his arms.

"Why not? I've been planning this for too long, Hermione. You could have stopped me, but you didn't. I don't even know why you care so much. They're only Mudbloods."

And then everything seemed suddenly clear. It wouldn't change anything. He wouldn't close the Chamber of Secrets. But it wasn't fair on him. He obviously had feelings for her. He obviously cared a lot about her. He wanted to impress her. Make her like him. But he didn't know the true story. He didn't know the true her.

"Because I am a _Mudblood_," she told him. She was amazed that she could look him properly in the eye, but she could. "I am Muggleborn, Tom, and my real name is Hermione Granger."

* * *

Draco wasn't even sure why he was kissing Ash. Really, he should have been keeping an eye on Hermione. But the truth was, he had been fooling himself. She didn't need his protection. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. She was more capable of it then he was.

He couldn't get what she'd said out of his mind. She hadn't said no. It wasn't final. Draco was still in with a chance. But he couldn't help wondering whether maybe she'd just said that to stop him kissing Ash, since it had been obviously she'd been so deliciously jealous.

So he was out here now, in the hallway, kissing Ash. Just to prove that he still was a man. That just because Hermione didn't like something he was doing, didn't mean he was just going to stop. She didn't have that much power over him, after all. He was still a Malfoy, albeit a Muggle-loving one. Hopefully, his father would never found out. Over everything, Draco thought that would be the one thing to send his father to the grave. Actually, perhaps someone ought to tell him – what a handy way to rid the world of a little more evil.

So he kissed Ash. Both of them kissing each other with the same harshness. Draco couldn't help wonder whether Ash thought of Tom as she kissed Draco. There was definitely no love lost between the two. She had admitted she found Draco's mind slightly attractive, but Draco would not have been surprised to find that Ash was in love with Tom.

* * *

If Tom was shocked or disgusted or angry or _anything_, he didn't show it. His face remained the same, completely impassive. She could read nothing from it. She could see nothing but the same darkness in his eyes.

And then, with horror, she realised he had raised his wand.

Was he just going to curse her there?

But he didn't. He did – something – and then put his wand back into his pocket. He'd summoned something, she realised. A second later, he was pushing that object into her hand. She couldn't look down. She was shaking. She couldn't take her eyes from his face, searching for some sign, some effect, some change.

"Race you there then, I suppose," he said.

Then he just held her in his arms for another minute, and she stood there in his embrace. He moved but only to kiss her on the forehead.

"Oh Hermione," he breathed. She was shocked by the flash of sadness there. Just sadness. Nothing else. No anger. No disgust. No disappointment. Just heavy sadness. Even that was gone in a minute, and at once his face was smoothed out and calm. Blank.

And then he was gone, and she felt strangely cold and empty without his arms around her.

She stood there emptily for a moment and then numbly looked down at what he'd given her. The realisation didn't surprise her as much as she thought it would, but what a coincidence! It was a mirror. But not just a mirror. The exact same mirror he had given her, when she'd been just twelve years old. Or at least its identical twin.

Once the shock was over, she knew she had to run. So she did. She raced past Sally, who was sulking in the corner, completely alone and still as plain as ever. She ran past Minerva and Law who were just finished their dance, and saying Goodbye. She ran past Dumbledore, who didn't even have time to form his polite inquiry. She ran past Principle Dippet, who couldn't quite remember that pretty running girl's name. She ran from the ball, the ball that had taken such a horrible turn.

She stopped running when she saw Ash and Draco kissing though. Full on kissing.

"You're so useless!" she screamed at him suddenly, everything all just coming to a head. "I don't know why I even bothered bring you!" She wasn't even fully aware of Ash's presence. "Honestly, what help were you? Here I am risking everything, and all you can do is kiss girls! A bit of support would have been nice instead of _Always. Leaving. Me. Alone_!"

"Hermione?" He pushed Ash away from him at once and came to her, confusion on his face.

"I'm sick of it!" she yelled. She was aware suddenly that she was crying. Another mood swing. There must be something mentally wrong with her. "I'm sick of you! I'm sick of me! I'm sick of everything!" The tears splashed down her face and she flushed a very ugly colour, nearly the same colour as her dress. Her hair was beginning to go mad again.

"What's after happening?" he asked her urgently. "Are you alright?" He genuinely seemed to be very worried about her. "Hermione!" He lurched towards her, reaching out.

"Don't touch me!" She was completely hysterical. She realised if he came any closer, she was going to slap him. "You haven't changed at all, have you? The same old Draco Malfoy! Never will change! Exactly like your father!"

She ran again, ran away from him and his yells after her, trying to forget the hurt that had flashed on his face, and the terrible sadness that had been on Tom's. All because of her. "Hermione!" he bellowed. "Hermione, come back!"

_All because of her._

* * *

Draco turned to meet Ash's questioning eyes. They were a dark green, and were regarding him with suspicion and interest.

He groaned inwardly. What had Hermione done? How could he explain this? Had she just blown everything?

What the hell was wrong with her, anyway?

* * *

She'd been stupid, Hermione had. Sobbing and upset and angry, pure emotion, she'd ran, only barely aware of where she was going. She couldn't think properly, only feel, and her emotions were totally out of control.

Through her bleary tears, she saw the shadow of the Basilisk. Too late. Instinct and adrenaline took over logical thought. Without even realising it, she had crouched under the Basilisk's shadow, her back to it. Too late. She couldn't run. Couldn't hide. No way to escape. It had seen her. It could smell her Muggle blood. It wanted to kill her.

It slithered up behind her. She could hear it. She only had one weapon. She raised the mirror, ready to crack the snake over the head with it. Foolishly, the mirror was facing the snake, and its glowing, lethal eyes were reflected back to her. Light also caught in it, which caused her unwilling, frantic eyes to look….

The snake slithered away after a second.

It hadn't killed her.

But Hermione was petrified.

* * *

_Yay! So sorry for the delay in getting this out. I won't get into it here!_

_This hasn't been Beta read, and every time I look at it, I see a new mistake! I'm SORRY! But it's my favourite chapter so far!_

_Anyway, story has only two or three chapters left. :( And then i'm gonna take a little break from writing, basically because I'm swamped with real life, and all the stories I'm really passionate about at the moment will be finished! Yay! I'm after finishing Deal With The Devil, and Insanity of Life! Yay! I love finishing stories!_

Thanks to, for reviews of last chapter:

sugarnspice522 - of course Hermione could be a target! Any Basilisk would see tjrough her disguise a mile off! thanks!

Amishgirl281 - I always thought time'd be that bit more confusing then just going back and messing things up!

Illyria-light - Your support is soooo great! I love one of the stories on your favs as well...Hinge of Fates, I'm just near the end of it! Thanks!

Ptrst - You rock!

Ardent Entity - It feels like we just talked yesterday...oh yeah, we did! Hope you're still reading!

Unspeakable May - Ouch, break ups are hard! Are you alright?

Mrs Pierre Bouvier - Un-strange pairings are boring! It's much morew interesting to explore the impossible!

Green Pea Soup - I updated Deal with the Devil! And it wasn't rude at all!

Zippyrox - I'm going to be honest with you! Because of the little we know about Tom, I'm actually finding him very easy to write. It's trying not to over-shadow Draco that's the hard part, and I'm finding himk a little difficult sometimes - I don't want to make him TOO nice (that's why he's kissing Ash!).

Alenor - Your review gave me an idea, actually! So thanks! For the final chappie!

Natyslacks - Don't worry, I adore complimentary rambling, am quite a fan!

Susukeblade - What a nice review! Thank you!

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	20. The Reality

Law watched Minerva walk away from him. This was it. This moment was all he had left now, concerning Minerva. Their relationship, however brief it was, was now over, but it had changed everything. Minerva was a Muggleborn. Tom said Muggleborns were all evil and bad, but it was only too clear that they weren't at all. Tom had been wrong, and so had Law to have followed him.

He looked around. He saw things so clearly now. All those girls he'd never even noticed before, all those that were not Purebloods…but who would look at him, a gangly red head? Who would ever…?

"Hi." It was Sally. He looked at her.Her background was pretty unknown, except that she _was_ Pureblood, and all he knew about her was she was quiet but had a fiery temper. She liked to read books. She was not ugly, but plain, and yet he found something soft in her face, now that he really looked at her. Ash had often hinted that Sally had "a thing" for him, but Law had never really listened, his head full of Minerva.

"Hi. Sally, what do you think of Muggleborns? And Half-Bloods? Do you…do you ever think about things like that?" His voice was suddenly intense.

Sally smiled, and if she was confused he was asking such a sudden question, she didn't show it. Maybe she'd seen him dancing with Minerva. "Law," she said gently, "you know I've never really thought much of all that. That's why Tom and Ash are so sharp with me sometimes. We're only young and I frankly have more important things to be thinking about."

"Such as?"

"Such as…Clothes. Food. Music. Having fun." She smiled. "Friends."

"But you always…"

"Went along with Ash? Sure, we're _friends_, Law. Ash and I have a joke about it, about how terribly loyal I am."

Law had never really talked to her before, not properly, not one-to-one like this. Law smiled at her. And he could see the affect his smile had on her, the delight on her face that he was smiling at her. She obviously was quite keen on him, and this made Law feel tingly inside.

"There's something going to go down tonight. Something bad…shall we leave, before it happens?" Law asked her.

She considered him. In truth, she didn't really want to leave, but if Law wanted to…She nodded.

"We can play chess!" he said.

"Only if you're preparing to lose," Sally told him. "I'm a brilliant chess player."

"Me too!" He took hold of her hand and led her out. He knew that she wasn't always like this, so friendly and nice, that she had a somewhat wicked side in her as well. But then, so did he. He couldn't judge her. He didn't know her well enough to judge her. He didn't want to judge her, he didn't want to be critical of her. He wanted to _like_ her.

Minerva watched them go, but was not sad or regretful. What they'd had, had been beautiful, but they were too young for something so intense. She turned back to Ian Smith, who was talking about Quidditch. A simple boy, not one she would ever dream of marrying or knowing after Hogwarts, but he was interesting to talk to, a good dancer, and a great kisser. Minerva felt happy and young and alive.

Sally and Law's chess game would last all night, and they would have more fun than could have been possible at that ball, more fun than they both would have ever expected. Nobody else was in the Slytherin Common Room, so they didn't have to act indifferent and cold. They could just be who they were, and like each other.

Nobody would know it yet, neither Hermione nor Draco were present, but these two people were to be Ron Weasley's grandparents.

* * *

Draco told Ash some quickly made up story about how Hermione had believed, after their kiss, that they were a couple of some sort and that he had played along because it went along with "our plan." He said he didn't understand some of what she'd said as well, but she had seemed very upset, and then he asked Ash politely if she minded if he went after her and calmed her down, although he didn't really care for her answer, he'd wasted enough time on her already.

Ash narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't lie to me, Draco. I know how you feel about Hermione. How you have always felt about her."

"All the more reason to run after her, don't you think?" he said casually but he was already moving away from her, and the minute he turned the corner that brought him out of her sight, he began to run. What had happened to her? Was she all right? Where had she run? Had Tom hurt her? The questions cursed through his head, and his heart pounded. Quidditch brought him great upper strength, but his body wasn't used to running so quickly, and his throat felt raw and his breath too rapid. He didn't decrease his speed at all, and the sensation of something awful having taken place didn't decrease either.

Her body seemed tiny in the wide hallway when he saw her. His feet screeched to a sudden halt, and his eyes widened. He was a couple of feet away from her but couldn't move any closer. A sudden image of a crumbled flower floated through his dazed mind, and his breathe cut off from being terrible rapid to not existing at all. His heart thudded quickly in his chest.

He could see the wide, empty eyes from his distance. She was lying on her side, one hand raised, the other under her. A stricken expression of horror and fear remained frozen on her face. Those eyes, although not focused on him, seemed to stare accusingly at him and taunt him with their lack of life. Her skin was like porcelain, completely pale, almost blue, as if she didn't have one drop of blood left in her fallen body.

He took one step, and broke out of his shocked paralysis. Falling to his knees painfully, he put a hand on her shoulder and shook her gently, so gently as if scared her neck would snap. He couldn't think. He was too dazed to think. But there was a humming mantra in his head that showed no sign of stopping, that wouldn't leave him alone.

…_she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead…_

"NO!" he roared. "Hermione! No…please!" He looked upward, as if searching desperately for some sign of a God to restore her. "No! Hermione…please…" Denial stumbled over fear, and then there was just desperation…

Then the penny dropped. Hermione Granger was dead. He was here in the past all alone, and…

…_she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead…_

Why? Why had she had to die? Why not him, Draco Malfoy, tarnished by all his sins and dark ways? Why not have one less Malfoy in the world, and one more good person to fight for it? Why did she have to die, when she didn't deserve it, and leave scum like Tom Riddle and Draco Malfoy live? Why did the world have to be so cruel, when he hadn't even gotten to know her well enough? Why did death have to take her, when all she'd done was cherish life, and try to save others' lives? Why Hermione Granger? When he'd just gotten to realise how strong his feelings for her was…?

_…she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead…_

He wanted to refuse to accept it. He wanted to close his eyes and make it all go away. He wanted to lie down next to her, take her in his arms, and die with her. He realised he was being a little selfish but all he could think of was that he had no way of getting back to the future without her, and would have to live here on his own, in the wrong time…what was the point in any of this, if she was just gone?

"_What's the fucking point?_" he yelled, and his voice was hoarse. He realised that he was crying.

"Is that a rhetorical question, or would you like me to answer it?" Tom was leaning over Draco's shoulder, staring down at Hermione's body, with a mocking mournful expression. Draco hadn't heard him approach. Tom's eyes moved from her to Draco's, and he smiled. "What's the fucking point to life, you asked, Draco. My answer is that the point to life," Tom smiled again, a slow wicked smile, "is death. Death really is the only thing we can be sure of. The one common thing in all of us."

Draco stared. He should have been feeling something but the sight of Tom only brought a terrible numbness. His face was still wet but he wasn't crying anymore, and didn't wipe such tears away. He felt such tears were justified.

"Unless there is a way to be immortal," Tom continued, with the same smile playing over his lips.

Draco knew of Voldemort's search to be immortal, back in his real time. Draco had once thought this was the result of brilliance, but now Draco saw that what it was really was a result of fear of the unknown and a completely misplaced sense of pride.

"You're just a human, like the rest of us," Draco told him spitefully, "and you are able to die." And with that in mind, Draco launched himself into Tom, toppling them both over to the floor. Draco's mission now was to kill Tom Riddle. Hermione's mission had been to help Tom to turn good, but Draco knew such a mission was impossible now. Hermione was dead, and there was no difference between Tom Riddle and Voldemort. There never had been. Draco believed Tom had only been playing with them all this time, and now he had to die. There probably would be consequences in the future, but he had to do this now. Think of all the lives he would save, all the happiness that people in their time deserved. Think of all the students of Hogwarts being able to act like kids again, being able to have Prank Wars and dance at Yule Balls and pass their Newts…think of Hermione Granger, who deserved to be alive, but wasn't…

…_she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead…_

Draco had his hands around Tom's throat, choking him and banging his head off of the stone tiles. Blood gushed from the back of his head and there was no way he could breathe, but there was no pain or fear in Tom's blank eyes…It made Draco scared, seeing those indifferent eyes staring up into his. No anger, no fear, no anything…_nothing_. Nothing left.

And then, with an almost inhuman strength, Tom reached up and simply took Draco's arms off his neck, and threw Draco off him, a few feet away. Draco's head cracked against the ground, and then Tom was on top of him, in almost the exact same position Draco had been. He was stronger, faster, in control…those blank eyes continued to pour down into Draco's, and there was genuine fear in Draco's heart. Not just of death, but of Tom Riddle and what he was capable of.

"You don't even care, do you?" Draco gasped. "That she's dead. You didn't care for Hermione at all…"

Tom continued to take the breath from Draco, and just before Draco's body slacked against the ground, Tom spoke. "You're wrong." And then the darkness took over all of Draco's senses, and Tom let go of his throat and stood up straight, brushing himself off.

* * *

"Ash," Tom said after a moment of standing there and the girl withdrew from the shadows, clearly after seeing everything with her almost orange coloured eyes. "Take him, and bring him to the Chamber," Tom commanded.

Ash didn't reply, and began the awkward business of trying to lift Draco, having to convert to magic because of her damn wheelchair. Tom lifted Hermione gently into his arms, and peered down at her, lifting one hand and brushing a loss strand of hair almost tenderly from her eyes, which he also closed.

"Is she dead?" Ash asked quietly, quietly as if hoping he wouldn't hear her. She was obviously scared of one of his punishments.

With Hermione against his chest, he didn't feel capable of anger. "Of course not," he said. "She's just petrified."

"And Draco?" Ash prompted, careful to keep her annoyance at his reply considering Hermione out of her voice.

"I don't know. I don't care. Check for yourself." Tom's eyes never left Hermione. He lifted her easily, even though she was hardly as light as a feather, considering her curves and her height.

Ash checked, but she didn't really care anymore either and, when she realised he was alive, didn't extend any bother to be any more gentle with him, having to keep in pace with Tom when following, or else Tom would leave her behind.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes only to see darkness. She wished she had her wand, but Tom still had it.

She shuffled and the sound echoed around her.

"Lumos," she heard and then she could see Tom, kneeling in front of her, a glass pressed up against her lips. She had a horrible taste in her mouth, and felt faint and shaky.

"What happened?" she asked him feebly.

"The Basilisk petrified you," He told her. "Do you feel all right?" Hermione could see real concern in his eyes, along with some sort of remorse. Was she the only one able to see such emotions in his eyes? Was she the only one who made him feel such emotions? Her head was spinning.

She nodded, but she didn't feel all right at all.

"Where's Draco?" she asked, and his face changed. There was no longer any emotion in his eyes.

"Do you love him?" he hissed, such an instant change just by the mention of his name, and Tom looked like the Basilisk had when it had been reflected in the mirror. "Does he kiss you the why I do? Do you think of him when you're kissing me?"

"Tom…"

"What do you feel for him, Hermione? What do you feel for me?" he demanded.

"I don't know," she cried, but she wasn't even sure which question she was answering. She was scared.

His features seemed different in the yellow wand light. They seemed to glow, and there was yellow fire in his coal-coloured eyes. Fear and confusion were racing through her, along with other emotions she couldn't distinguish between. Self-hatred was one when she saw the hurt in his eyes. She knew she had hurt so many people, including herself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She had never wanted to hurt him, or make him feel like he did for her.

He looked at her sharply and seemed unable to form a reply. He looked down at her lips, then her eyes, and slowly drew in for the inevitable kiss. She wasn't crying now, and the kiss soothed her aching bones. She was kissing him back without hesitation and this kiss wasn't as painful as their other kisses, but just as passionate and emotional. She felt like she was kissing death a final goodbye, she felt like she was dieing, and that he was teasing her life out of her with tenderness.

"I'm sorry," he whispered then, and the kiss ended. They both stared at each other.

The silence seemed to speak more than words.

"Who are you, Hermione Granger? Why have you come here? Why did you lie?"

She didn't know what to say or how to explain to him. She heard herself telling him in a hushed, bemused sort of voice, "I'm from the future and-"

Understanding flared in the endless pits of his pupils. "I'm a monster there, aren't I? In the future?

The tension and silence was then heavy in the air.

"I'm only a monster to you there, aren't I?"

She had turned away because she couldn't look him in the eye. She suddenly felt very cold. Her silence was answer enough from him, and he turned away also, as if it was agony to even look at her.

"How do you know?" she asked and her voice was trembling. "How do you know you turn out to be a monster?"

"Because I know what I am," he answered simply, still not looking at her although she was now facing him. "I know how I feel. I know the only thing good about me, in me – is you. And you're not even from this time. You'll never be mine. You don't belong with me. I don't even know who you are."

"You know me," she argued. "I think you know me better than any of my friends back home know me, Tom. You see me the way I see you. Without any disguises." What she meant, of course, was that he could see the darkness in her that none of her friends had ever seen, and she could see the light in him that none of his friends had ever seen. She believed this with all her heart but when he looked back at her, all she could see in his face was doubt.

"There's always disguises, Hermione," he told her dully. "I didn't even know your real name. You know more about who I will be, rather than who I am. This – is this your real hair? This," he gestured to his chest with a fist," this is who I am now, but there's obviously more darkness to me than even I know."

She was confused, but continued to look at him. "How can you even look at me," he asked her now, obviously troubled, and there was something heart breakingly sad in his voice,a new side to him she hadn't seen before, "without hatred? Without feeling sick?" He looked oddly defeated.

"I came here to change all that, Tom," she said and she was crying now, quiet tears. "I came here because I knew there was more to you than just Voldemort. I knew there was more to you, because I knew that you, Tom Riddle, were human, and no human being can be totally evil."

"What's the point trying to change something that is destined to happen?" There was such depression in his eyes that it shocked her, such defeat. "One can't change who one is, and who one turns out to be. You shouldn't have come back here…you should know about time by now. What happens now is what has already happened in your time. I turn out to be Lord Voldemort after you've already been here. Going back in the past changes nothing because it has already happened, don't you see?"

It was the same realisation she had come to with Draco, but hearing it from Tom's mouth made it all the more horrifying.

Her head felt like it was twirling and dancing on her neck. "In the future," she told him, "Voldemort encouraged Draco and I to come back here. We didn't realise it at the time but…do you think its b-because of me that you turn into Lord Voldemort? Do you think I-I turn you evil?"

"No!" he shouted with full certainty. "No, Hermione," he said in a gentler voice and his hand cupped her cheek, "I think why Voldemort left you come back is because Voldemort knew it was the only time in his miserable life when he was really happy. When he ever knew and felt love. Maybe he doesn't know that yet but…"

She didn't let Tom finish, but caught him in a kiss this time, because it was the only apt way she could express how she was feeling. He kissed her back, and this was the longest kiss they'd ever shared.

He fiddled with her neck and she leaned back from the kiss to look down at the time turner tied around her neck, now in his hand. "I want you to leave now," he said. "I want you to leave me alone now. There's no point in this…I'd be selfish and ignorant to think that you could stay here with me. I don't want you to watch me turn into that – that thing that I know you so despise."

"And Draco…?" she asked and there was tears rolling down her face, but she knew there was no point arguing with him because he was right.

"He is alive. I would never have killed him. I know…I know how you feel about him, Hermione."

He stood up, and helped her stand too. Leading her through the darkness by the crook in her elbow, they went through a door into a room as equally dark as the one before. "Where are we?" she asked him.

"The Chamber of Secrets," he replied. "Don't worry though, I closed it before you awoke, and it will remain closed forever more." He didn't mention the diary, so neither did she. He made it before he knew her, and would not have possession of it now.

Tom moved in front of her and, by his wand light, she saw Ash guarding a sitting Draco. Both were unable to see her in Tom's shadow. Tom raised his wand and the light flickered as he stunned Ash, one problem out of the way at least. Draco looked up sullenly, arms folded, but, when Tom spoke, it was addressed to her, not him.

"Put the time turner around both of your necks, and I will send you home," he ordered.

"Tom…"

"Do it, Hermione," and he closed his eyes against the evident pain.

She stepped forward into the light to Draco. She could only see Tom's outline because the light was not enveloping him. It seemed almost like a metaphor, her and Draco standing there glowing in the light, and Tom, close, but behind the light, clouded in darkness. The thought passed, and she put the time turner around their necks like Tom had commanded. She looked into Draco's face and saw wonderment and awe there.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered to her, and then he smiled slowly as he realised this was not so and she was very much alive. "Hermione…" his voice broke with emotion, and he seemed unable to say anything else.

"Tom," she cried out, because she knew she could talk to Draco about this later, and this was her last time she could reach out to Tom. "It doesn't have to be this way, Tom. Please…you have to fight this…you have to fight yourself…"

"I can't, Hermione," he said softly. "You know as well as I do that there's just no point…"

She couldn't see his face and that seemed all he had to say. He put out the light, to cast the spell on the time turner, thus showing both Draco and Hermione just how powerful he was, that he thought himself able to do the impossible and send people into the future. Hermione heard his wand tap against the time turner and suddenly realised that this was going to work, and she only had a few seconds left.

But she didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry…" she heard him say before she was thrown fifty years away from him, but she wasn't sure whether it had been her imagination or not.

* * *

_I know I would get more reviews if I waited, but I'm quite happy with the reviewers now – proud, one might say. Anyway, I'm fed up, trying to figure out what degree I'm going to do for the future and sort of panicking, feeling worthless, so thought I'd update. Makes one feel better…if it's making someone out there's day a little better._

_**Always remember to keep on smiling.**_

_Thanks to those who reviewed:_

_Arabella Minerva, sarklover26, poogiepie, mew mew, poke-the-sleeping-dragon, CareBearErin, fantasticarla, natyslacks, Sailor Moon Rose, Unspeakable Mae, sakuya-kaleido (who knows?), sugarnspice522, SasukeBlade, Lisi, 404, MagicalFlame, renyun, Black Ranger (she was just sick of the lies…) and Illyria-light (I finished that story. Apart from the pregnant R rated scenes, which I thought were a little off putting, I thought the story officially rocked)._

_Special Thanks to: Ali – Lou andAmishgirl281 because I love long reviews, and to Seghen because the end of When's It Over (her story) kicked ass, in a good sense!_

_**Next chapter (or maybe a short one after the next chappie) will be the end! I need help…what do you think should happen? Any thing you want me to add in? There'll be a lot of explanation in the next chapter, and a lot of action and sadness/happiness. Anything you felt didn't really make sense? I have a couple of things I know I need to explain, and that will be done, maybe in the epilogue. Detailed analysis would be appreciated at this point. Should Tom appear in the future?**_

_**To anyone wondering…I have a little bit of a…whatcha call 'em…plot bunny…anyway, I have a little bit of a plot yoke boiling for another Tom/Hermione, this time without Draco butting in. But that one wouldn't be up for a while.**_

_**What do you think of this chapter? Good? Bad? Disappointing? Confusing? Action-packed? Boring? Cheesy? I wanna hear it!**_


	21. The End

The world span and span and span…

And then all was still.

Hermione opened her eyes against the dizziness, and found herself falling flat on to the floor. Draco's voice was the last thing she heard before she fainted. "I thought you were dead."

* * *

"I thought you were dead, Hermione."

She looked at him and saw him as if she hadn't seen so many times before. There was just so much _emotion_ on his face. This was Draco Malfoy, a boy she hadn't even considered able to feel emotions before. But now…how much had he changed? How much had their journey changed them both?

"I thought I was dead as well," she murmured in response, wincing as she sat up.

"Where are we?" she asked again, when all he did in response was smile almost wonderingly down at her.

"Chamber of Secrets, I suppose." All that surrounded them was darkness and silence. A faint dripping could be heard in the background, but that was all. Draco's wand was lit, and it created shadows on his face. Dazedly she reached up and tried to brush them away. She didn't want him to be tainted any longer by the darkness.

He caught her hand before it touched his face and cupped it in his own. "Are you okay?"

The penny dropped, and Hermione's shock with it.

"No," she said, and her body began to shake. The next moment was a mere blur – one second they were talking, the next she was reaching for him, bawling, and he was pulling her wet face into his chest and stroking her hair. Everything that had been done – that they'd done – came back to her and, through the whirlpool of emotions, all that was left was her tears.

They remained like that for some time. Darkness and silence surrounded them, but they were encircled in the light. She remained bawling until all the tears were washed out of her, and he held her close all the while, his face quite wet as well, and his words soothing and true.

They hadn't changed anything. Voldemort was still Voldemort. Dumbledore was still dead. The war still raged on.

But everything had changed for Hermione and Draco. They, as people, were simply different. Hermione knew so much more now, and Draco had finally found his own identity, one completely different to that of his father's.

And whatever was ahead of them now, they could face it. Tom was gone now; he was dead to the world. But when she finally faced Voldemort again, she would not be afraid. She knew that he was once a human, and he'd once been in love with her. Voldemort had once been human, the exact same way Hermione and Draco were human. This suddenly seemed very important to her.

"You're not alone," Draco had told her once upon a time.

She wasn't alone. She knew that now. Draco was with her. They were finally in accord with each other – finally they were in the right time, the right place, the right people. Their worlds had finally merged, and they were together at last.

He stood up and reached out his hand – that hand – to her. She hesitated, but not because she was afraid. Then, with a small smile, she gripped on to that hand and let him pull her up.

Together, still gripping on to each other, they walked. Walked to where they knew Voldemort was waiting for them, just outside…

* * *

_The End _

_Thanks for all who reviewed._


	22. The Epilogue

Although she thought shewas prepared, it had still hurt when she'd looked deep into those eyes and seen nothing but dark and sadistic evil in them. Part of her, the hopeful, unrealistic, unlogical part, wanted to reach out and shake him, shake all the Voldemort away so all that would be left was Tom, the vulnerable, humane Tom with his smouldering eyes that used to look at her and only her so that she felt like she was the only girl in the world and the quirky half smile that used to send shivers down her spine and whisper dangerous but thrilling things in her ear.

That wasn't who Voldemort was though. Not now. Voldemort had been through years and years of development to become what was before her. He'd forgotten all about the young witch who had tried to change his destiny – and who had almost succeeded. Voldemort knew nothing of the girl who'd made him want to change once upon a time, who'd made him want to become someone decent, someone good. He knew nothing of the one and only girl he'd loved.

Those eyes were so different to the ones she'd once been fascinated by. Those dark and smothering eyes that used to look at her with so much passion and emotion and _humanity_…Voldemort eyes were red and glistening and sardonic and cruel…

There was no sign of Tom there anywhere. She wanted to reach out and strip away all the Voldemort, she wanted to find Tom inside of him…but she knew that Voldemort was empty inside and that such a movement would mean an immediate and inevitable death.

Even with Draco fighting beside her, part of her just wanted to see Tom again…

When Harry finally delivered the last blow and Voldemort's pathetic remains lay in front of her, all Hermione could do was stare down at them with a strange fluttering inside of her. Voldemort was still breathing but that would stop soon. The war around them came to a halt and everybody watched Voldemort's final moments of life with a kind of still fascination.

When those red eyes moved to see the children that had brought upon his downfall, they seemed to rest on Hermione. The redness in them seemed to be dimming with death and for just one moment Hermione thought she saw her Tom…his hand reached across to take her own then but in that moment death overtook him before he actually got to touch her.

Joy seemed to burst over the spectators then. Harry was lifted up on to the crowd's shoulders, all proclaiming him as their saviour as, deep down inside, they'd always known they would. Ron caught her and picked her up in a frenzied jubilation, but all Hermione could do was force a stiff laugh.

Draco was the one that helped her escape from the celebrations. "Are you okay?" he asked her quietly, his eyes searching her, trying his very best to understand.

"Yes," she replied. "Yes, of course. I'm just very tired."

She forced a smile.

It was only when Hermione was at home that night in her own bedroom and with her own privacy that she finally wept for the loss that had occurred. Because even though the world was a much brighter and better place without Voldemort in it, she sincerely felt that it was a lot emptier and duller without Tom Marvolo Riddle.

* * *

_The End_


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